Flame Legacy 2: Old Wounds
by practice4morale
Summary: It's been three years since Xing. Maes is already a Colonel due to 'Maes Effect' on the higher-ups. Nina's a State Alchemist under his command with mega skill and zilch interest in military crap. Ed returned to the military to relearn alchemy without equivalent exchange-and he sucks. Junk happens.
1. Major's for Life, part 1 of 2

_Longtime respected Fuhrer, Roy Mustang, had said the ongoing peacetime was stable. If Fullmetal had known otherwise, he wouldn't've let his son join the Alchemic Research dpt. 3 yrs ago. If Maes Elric had known, he wouldn't've put his dad as his subordinate 2 yrs ago. If Nina (Mustang)Elric had known, she may've told Maes about kinda accidentally skipping the pill two nights ago._

**Author's Note: Calling all 'Flame Legacy' fans! I know I said I was never doing a sequel to FL. Never ever EVER! Well, I changed my mind. I could bore you with details, but just no. Here's a sneak preview at the start of the first chapter. The full chapter will go up sometime soon after 'Accident Baby' is complete (_still_ on hold due to technical difficulty *sigh*). This preview is more like a, "Rally the troops! Get psyched! Because I totally said this wasn't happening. But it totally is!" Read! REVIEW! GET PUMPED! Above all, follow, because it's coming :)**

**WARNING! This fanfiction is directly tied to 'Flame Legacy.' Make sure you've read FL before you jump into this one or this one won't make sense. At all.**

**Find more details on this fanfiction on my profile.**

* * *

Chapter One: Major's For Life, part 1/2

"Well, frack," I said to myself. "That pretty much didn't work at all."

"So much for using Amestris's tax money wisely," laughed Selim. "Yours, anyway, Major Mustang."

"Oh, my frickin' dang. Shut up, Selim. What does that even mean?"

It was that season again. It was time for all the government's research teams to renew their grants and certifications. That kind of useless, distracting junk. All year, all the teams would be making breakthroughs and figuring it out, and then winter came and all the sudden everyone was obsessing on their stupid presentations. That's why I'd told Maes before work that morning to take care of all that cosmetic junk without me. He was good at getting our team grants and crap. I had better things to do.

Selim looked down at the defective matrix I'd chalked onto the slate center table, the decaying apple I'd tried to use as material to grow a fresh tree. Plenty of bio-alchemists had found ways to transmute organic materials equivalently, but I thought bigger than that. I wanted to grow new life out of stuff that could barely be considered alive anymore.

"So," said Selim, running his finger along the edge of the table. "Do you plan on starting from scratch again, or are you ready to admit it was a grandiose concept to begin with and you've poured far too much money into this as it is?"

"Grandiose?" I scoffed. "What kind of bull have they been feeding you creeps in the Court Marshall's Office?"

Selim smiled in that smirky way, like a little brat. Jeez. He was, like, two solid years older than me. Soon as he'd quit trying to date me, he'd decided to make himself annoying and stuff.

Maes had taken the rest of the team with him for the presentation so they could all get recognized or whatever. Selim was just keeping me company during his lunch break. He wasn't even on the same floor as me. He had joined the military a little after me, right after he'd graduated college, and he had climbed from Private to Second Lieutenant from behind a desk in a matter of three years. I hadn't been promoted once. Mostly because I didn't need a promotion to do my job. So there.

"Listen up, Selim," I said. I slipped on a couple latex gloves and cuffed my uniform's blue sleeves, revealing the altered Dragon's Pulse matrixes tattooed lightly on either wrist. "I know it can be done. I'm just having an issue teaching other people how to do it. We clear?"

I grabbed the squishy apple in one hand and closed my eyes for a split moment, like a meaningful blink. I did it like I always did; tracked the Dragon's Pulse, joined my life force to its rhythm, and channeled the energy through the organic matter; like throwing life into it and riding it back into the earth like a vast circuit. I felt the old seeds charge with raw energy, the outer shell taught, ready to be pierced, ready to release the potential I'd invited to escape. The rotten apple vibrated and broke in my hand. Roots devoured and overtook the apple's flesh, using the fruit as nourishment to grow. In a matter of moments, I was holding the sapling of an apple tree in my right hand. I dropped it on the table.

"I'm not growing it past that size," I said. "No way am I cleaning up a tree."

Selim applauded reverently. "I stand corrected, Major."

"Quit calling me that," I said as I peeled my hands out of the latex gloves. "We've known each other forever. We used to date. No way in hell is this ever going to be professional, am I right?"

Selim smirked. "In your case? I'm not certain you have any professional relationships, Nina." He looked at the tree I'd scrapped. "How'd you do that, anyway?"

I shrugged a shoulder. "Oh, you know."

"No," he said. "No one does. You said a minute ago that that was exactly your problem. I don't understand. You've invested your resources into this project for the past three months. I know Colonel Elric specializes in developing new matrixes for these projects, but the matrixes on your wrists seem to achieve the goal just fine."

"Well, yeah," I said, staring at my wrists, the neutral tattoos too light to tell they were there from a few feet back. "These matrixes aren't for growing trees or whatever, though. They're just input-output points to help channel my life force during transmutations. The rest is just me working the controls."

"You barely touched alchemy until a few years ago. How is this so easy for you? Were you a homunculus in a previous life or something?"

I snorted. "Homunculi are made from alchemy. Doesn't make them alchemists."

"It's the same thing."

I looked him up and down and the name, 'Pride,' ran through my head until I was trying not to laugh. Pansy still had no idea what he had been, what he still kind of was. I only knew because Maes had told me. Didn't take away from the hilarity.

"Trust me," I said. "Homunculi can be just as useless as humans." More so, in your case, loser.

Selim rolled his eyes and stepped around the table to take my sapling in his hands. "Would you mind if I kept this? It'll grow if it's planted, right?"

"Not in this climate," I said. "Take it. Give it to Elycia. She'll call me after dinner and talk about it for an hour."

Selim got rosy. He was kind of a dork about Elycia. It was like he thought their relationship was secret or something. He'd been the one to tell me, for God's sake! Three years ago!

He smiled at me. "If the higher ups saw half of what you do in this room in a day, you'd be a colonel just like Maes by now."

"No," I said. My eyes sank to my wrists, the discolored marks that made up my arrays. "They know I'm good. That's the only reason they don't ditch me." I looked up, arching a brow. "And trust me. My hubby didn't make Colonel on alchemy alone. He's a flipping genius with the Maes Effect on his side. No one makes Colonel like Maes did. Not even my old man could've pulled off that many ranks in three years."

Selim blinked. "Maes Effect?"

Clink. I perked up. Clink. I looked at the door. Selim knit his eyebrows at me all inquiring like he hadn't noticed my father in-law's footsteps. Me? I noticed everything. The door pushed open within seconds and Uncle Ed stepped through with a smile already on his face.

"Hey, kids," he said. "Sorry. I was at the drinking fountain and I heard the word, 'old.' I just assumed someone was talking about our Fuhrer and I wanted to get in on the action."

I felt myself brightening. "Heya, Uncle Fullmetal! How goes it?"

I hurried over and wrung my arms around his lean waist, tight enough to get him making that funny choking sound he did when he pretended I was actually strong. I stepped back. He patted my head the way he still did to Maes.

"You know how it is," he said. "That slavedriver father of yours trying to promote me again."

I folded my arms. "What'd you tell him?"

"Told him, 'Major's for life!'"

"Whoo!"

Selim stared awkwardly as Uncle Ed and I pounded knuckles all cool and camaraderie-style. We were pretty much the only State Alchemists in Central who didn't give a damn about the military. That was probably why we were the only researchers under Maes's command not at the presentation right then.

"You ditched too, huh?" said Uncle Ed. He entered, coming over to the slate center-table where I'd been working. On a regular workday, he'd've been doing research junk and cursing the stupid apple out with me right now.

I stepped around with him. "They don't like me in there."

"You got that right," Uncle Ed laughed. He put his hand out to Selim and the sapling. "Hey, can I see that?"

Selim nodded and handed it over. Poor guy looked pale. Had some kind of ongoing irrational intimidation issue with Uncle Ed. Maybe the 'Pride' part of him remembered getting his ass whooped to more or less smithereens a couple decades back when Uncle Ed had turned him into not so much a psychotic monster-child.

Uncle Ed turned the foot-and-a-half-tall baby tree in his hands like a baseball bat. "I'm thinking you did this one, Nina?"

I shrugged a shoulder. "String bean over here didn't think it could be done. I showed him. So there."

Uncle Ed eyed Selim and chuckled. He looked back at the tree. "Just have to find a way for the rest of us to do it." He looked at the chalked matrix on the table. "And this?"

"Total dud," I said. "Give Selim the tree back. It's his."

Uncle Ed blinked. He handed Selim the tree and Selim took it back stiffly.

"My break is about to be over," Selim said to me. "I'll see you around, Nina. Good luck."

"Sure," I said with a smile. "Good luck with that tree in the snow, loser."

A smile made it onto his face as he exited on out. "Later, alchemy freak."

The door swung shut behind him. Uncle Ed watched with arched brows. "Oh, no he didn't."

"Give him this one," I said. "He's a freaking desk-worker. Boring, much? I think so."

Uncle Ed nodded. He patted my back. "This," he said, pointing to the failed array. "This is good. We're getting close."

"Yeah," I said. "Pretty soon I'll be able to ditch it for Maes and the guys to finish."

"You're not one to finish what you start." He seemed proud. Most people said that like it was something to be ashamed of.

"What the hell else are the rest of you guys for?" I said. "Gets to a point where it all turns to busy work for me, you know? I got a billion things to work on. I swear, we keep going smooth like this, Uncle Ed, and you're going to be better than you were at Equivalent Exchange."

"Oh, I'm counting on it." He stretched his arms foreword, rolling his shoulders back like he was sore. "If I don't die first."

My face flattened into kind of a frown. "Quit pouting. You expected relearning alchemy to be cake? Jeez. You're forty two. People are still having kids at your age."

Uncle Ed rubbed the back of his head, his eyes becoming tired. "I know."

I pointed and laughed like a total bully. Putting it as tactfully as pretty much possible, Aunt Winry had been freaking ecstatic when Uncle Ed had come home from Xing past three years ago completely healed. With Uncle Ed's condition all awful for six years, I took it sex hadn't been much of an option for those two for a while. According to my sister in-law, while I'd been spending months in the hospital recovering from getting skewered through the stomach, Uncle Ed and Aunt Winry had been making up for some seriously lost time. Well, that 'second honeymoon' of theirs had ended up producing my now two-year-old twin brother in-laws. Maes was so excited when he found out about his mom being all accidentally knocked up again, he was like, "That's amazing! You guys are like rabbits!" No woman but Aunt Winry would ever take that well. None.

"Uncle Ed?" I said.

"Yeah, kiddo?"

I bit my lip. "Selim can't make babies, right?"

Uncle Ed sank. He looked away. "That's right."

"He doesn't even know what a homunculus is," I said. "He doesn't know at all. Someday, he and Elycia are going to get married and I'm going to get a call from her one night and she'll be all crying and junk telling me she and Selim can't have babies."

"Can't change the way things are." He squeezed my shoulder. "Some of the best kids I've known are adopted."

I shrugged him off, rolling my eyes. "You're such a kiss-up, you know that?"

He laughed. "Come on. Let's make some progress on this damn project before my son and his groupies can get back to slow us down."

I threw him a chalk-eraser for the slate and went to the door. I looked over my shoulder. "Be right with you."

"Where you going?"

"Cafeteria," I said. "Got to get yesterday's trash before the janitors empty everything into the dumpster. We need more materials."

Maes and his 'groupies' got in just in time to see Uncle Ed transmute a half rotted tangerine into what I had begun to refer to as 'pulp pancakes.' Uncle Ed made them on a regular basis. If they hadn't been decomposable, I might've started a collection.

"Hey, Major Gorgeous!" said Maes coming in. All those stars on his shoulders made him look like such a freaking stiff. Kind of clashed with his crooked smile.

"They got taxidermists for fruit?" I said, looking at Uncle Ed's masterpiece in the middle of the slate.

"Um, last I checked, no," said Maes. He looked at his dad with a smirk. "Though, we could try fitting that into the budget this year."

"You did it?" said Uncle Ed.

The rest of our research team practically strutted in. Nine times out of ten, the higher ups had a private conference after presentations to come to an agreement about renewal of funds and whatever. Maes had a habit of impressing them into unanimous agreement on the spot. Our loser researchers probably thought they'd had something to do with it.

Uncle Ed gave Maes one of those congratulatory handshakes I'd kind of gotten used to but not so much. At home, he'd've probably given Maes a hug and ruffled his hair or something, but those two acted formal on duty. They even addressed each other by their military titles. Worse, Uncle Ed actually called my dad, 'Fuhrer,' instead of the regular, 'Idiot Colonel,' or, 'Bastard.' The only person in the building those two toned it down for was me. On that front, besides Selim, they were the only ones. My own parents called me 'Major Mustang.' I'd tried going by 'Elric' for a while after I got married, but it just got confusing with Uncle Ed working on my team every day, and, back then, Maes had still been a Major, so it got kind of ridiculous after it stopped being funny.

Maes was giving his dad the details of the presentation and all that stuff Uncle Ed secretly didn't care about but kind of cared about it when Maes said it, like putting his finger-paintings on the fridge. The others were kicking back and winding down what with being stressed about renewal all month. Probably longer, in Mikey's case. Michael Havoc was only twenty years old that year and he had the work ethic of a guy who'd been in a cubical long enough to turn into a robot. Way bizarre given his parents. I'd known him through my dad since forever. Even as a tiny thing, that guy had always been obedient all over the place.

Unless he was with friends. He seemed okay when he was with friends, like a person with social skills, but he was pretty picky with buds and I definitely didn't make the cut on that front. I was more like scary boss-lady who also happened to be scary girl who'd invade his house from time to time as a kid and played with his toys.

Somehow, within a few months of joining the service, me and Maes's research team had filtered down to a bunch of childhood friends of mine. Well, more like acquaintances. I'd always been kind of weirdo and my parents' friends were mostly normal, so their kids tended to prefer each other to freaky lab baby. Not that they hated me. We were more or less fond. Just not natural pals or anything.

Selim and Elycia were the only friends of the family who didn't seem to care about me being me, but, in all honesty, they had their own shares of weirdo in the blood. Lately, Elicia had been having me over for hours just to look at her daily scrapbooks of her and Selim being beautiful together. Mom had found out and told me to get out while I could. Whatever that meant.

Seriously, I figured my dad and his old team had pulled a bunch of strings to get their kids working together in some way or another. Couldn't blame them. They'd been a hell of a team back in the day. Before peacetime had turned them into pansies.

Besides Mikey, we had two other non-alchemists who basically got to do all the boring stuff I didn't want to do. Dad's war buddy, Mr. Charlie, had a son who was actually a few years older than me named Frank, like a hotdog. I said his parents should've named him Charles. At least middle named him, 'Incense.' He wasn't exactly a passionate researcher, but he was way impressed by Uncle Fullmetal and quickly had become doubly impressed with Maesy, so he stuck with us and researched his ass off when Maes gave the order. Not so much when anyone else did. I was his subordinate by one rank, anyway. He'd been with us from the beginning.

Private George Fuery had only joined a couple weeks ago. Freaking dang adorable. All cute and seventeen and called me ma'am like I was his mom. Mr. Armstrong's daughter, Olga, had joined our team a few months back; only a year older than Georgie but, like, over six feet tall with respectable muscles. She talked mostly in third person and offered me workout tips, so I totally liked her pretty great.

"Olga does not do alchemy," she'd said her first day on the team. "Olga upholds generations of Armstrong physical perfection."

Yep. That was her skill-set. Physical perfection.

There was only one other guy, a replacement for our last State Alchemist. The old one had gotten annoyed at me one too many times and moved over to Knox's team. Geezer. Not much more personable than me, but apparently enough to be preferable.

This new, replacement guy had been with us for a week and I'd barely gotten a word out of him. Dang. Even Maes couldn't get him chatty. Me and Maes had talked about it before bed a few nights back. Maes had said he'd seen in the paperwork that the Major had five dependents.

"He's thirty eight years old," Maes had said. "You don't start up a military career that late in the game with a wife and four kids at home unless you're hurting financially. He'll probably perk up after his first paycheck."

I looked over at the new guy from my littered slate table. Major Thomas Braddock. The others were heading out the door for lunch. Braddock was getting out paperwork to start on. I sucked my lip. Seriously? He was skipping again?

"Nina," said Maes, coming over. "What do you say I take you out for lunch? You and me."

"Nope," I said.

Maes groaned like a teenager. "Come on, baby. You've been working since seven thirty this morning. I want to celebrate. We got a raise. Did I tell you that?"

I snorted. "So? I just go over the budget if we run out anyway." I snuck another look at Braddock. Inking his pen. Signing and dating junk that had probably been some other slacker's responsibility to sign and date. I frowned. "Take your daddy, Maes. I'm on a roll."

Uncle Ed was standing by the door, waiting like he'd kind of expected me to bail and he wasn't unhappy about it. "Come on, kiddo. I could use some non-cafeteria food."

Maes pouted. "We can go the three of us."

I rolled my eyes and pulled out my secret weapon. "Babe, there's kind of snow in the clouds today. You make me go out there and it's not going to feel good." Snowy weather made my back ache worse than it did Uncle Ed's automail.

Maes got that sad look that I'd kind of been trying to avoid. He touched my cheek. "Sorry. Wasn't thinking."

"I'm so okay with it," I said. "Way too white out there for comfort, you get me?"

"Loud and clear," he said. He kissed my forehead. "Okay, Major Gorgeous, I'll see you in an hour tops."

"Famous last words." I kissed his mouth. "Congrats on the thing."

He laughed. Probably picked up on me not even bothering to be specific about all the 'things' about the renewal I should be congratulating him for.

They left. Braddock was working like we weren't even in the same room. I sucked my lip. What a nerd.

"Hey, Major," I said.

He looked up like turning on a switch. It was his, 'I'm not alone,' mode. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Don't call me that," I said. I folded my arms. "You're, like, a decade older than me and you'll probably be my superior by next year. Just no."

He blinked. "I apologize." He said it almost like a question.

I undid my arms and frowned. "Damn. You got me all sidetracked. I was going to say something to you." I sucked my lip. I looked up. "Oh, yeah, okay. So, get over here. No, wait. I'll come to you. No, wait. That's dumb. Get over here. Okay. I think so."

He got up slowly. "Um, ma'am, are you alright?"

"I'm going to try not to get sidetracked by you calling me stupid ma'am-banter again." I waved him over since he was standing there all uncertain like he wasn't sure it was appropriate or maybe I was intoxicated or both. I smiled. "Look, I'm so not drunk. I don't do that crap. Trust me. I can't hold half a beer down on my best day." I gestured to my body, my specially tailored uniform for scrawny pipsqueaks. "Like, I'm too small for a watered down girlie drink."

He was rigid. My expert skills at calming fears seemed to be doing the opposite on him. 'Nina Effect' was definitely nothing close to the Maes Effect. I rolled my eyes, letting out a harsh breath.

"Okay, Mister," I said. "Pretty much everyone else has a clue, so I'll just say it. I kind of got adopted out of a screwed up situation and it didn't exactly foster stellar communication skills. I'm kind of a total freak, so get used to it. Now get over here." I grabbed a squishy cherry tomato out of my bag of trash and circulated enough energy through it to grow a modest tomato vine with a couple semi-ripe fresh tomatoes showing. "I want to teach you how to feed your family out of a garbage can."

Braddock's eyes went from wide with wonder to heavy with hurt. He broke eye contact like a total self-conscious doofus.

I tossed the tomatoes back on the table. He looked up for a second like he wanted to go get it. I narrowed my eyes. "Quit with the awkward martyr act. I'm not five feet tall because of genetics, buster. I know what malnutrition looks like. You think your family likes you pulling this kind of crap for them? If you give a damn, you'll swallow up some pride and get the hell over here before people start getting back from lunch." I shuddered. "I hate it when they hover."

He was still for a second. Then, slowly, he smiled all soft and more or less pleasant. "So, you found me out. Military really takes background checks seriously."

"Psh, with Amestris at peace?" I said, guiding him to the slate. "The higher ups have got better to do than keep tabs and jazz."

He chuckled. "Like sitting in their chairs eating bonbons all day?"

"Dang. So you're actually cool," I said. "I was going to say braiding each other's hair, but that could get awkward for the baldies, you know?"

Braddock watched me all attentive and observant as I rubbed out the latest faulty circle and scrawled out a new one. I put a finger up at him for him to wait. I dumped a brown banana out of the trash into the center and activated it using just the chalk matrix, because using my wrists would totally be cheating. The banana vibrated for a second then exploded a little. I put up my finger at Braddock again and started wiping away the chalk for another try. I grabbed a mostly eaten apple and threw it in the center of a new circle. Instant pulp pancake. I put my finger up again.

"Um, ma'am?"

I gave him a look.

He cleared his throat. "Major Mustang?"

"Mm?"

He looked at the mess on the slate, then back at me. "You need a minute?"

"Nope," I said. "Been working on this three months. I'm so ready to be done it's not even funny."

He shrugged. "Could be a problem, considering it still ain't working yet."

"Tell me about it." I sighed. "Dang. Maes is so much better at this than I am."

"The Colonel?"

I had to think a second on what he was getting at. I nodded. "Oh, yeah. That. Yep. Maes is definitely a Colonel now. He gets all these promotions and junk. I can't keep up with him. In more ways than one. Obviously, much?" I puffed out a breath. "He's my husband, so I get to call him whatever the hell I want."

"You seem to apply that to a lot of people around here," he said. "Jeez. If Colonel Elric's better at whatever this is, why don't you ask him to take care of it? With all due respect, Major, that's what husbands are for."

"Yeah, you said it," I said. I put my elbows on the table and leaned on it, because I really was short enough for that to look not entirely awkward. "Unfortunately, my hubby understands this stuff about as well as anyone else does, which is zilch, just to be clear."

"The Colonel?"

"Yep."

"He's a master alchemist, ain't he?"

"Yep," I said. "He's dang incredible. Been transmuting since he was two years old. A billion different styles, too. He sees a new technique or a matrix he doesn't have yet and he just looks for an empty place on his long-ass gloves. He's got such a collection going, he's been putting like, straps and bracelets and junk with new arrays over the gloves with all the old ones. Just ran out of room, you know?"

"Damn," said Braddock. That tended to be the general reaction. He gestured to the slate. "And he can't do this? I'm sorry, ma'am. In that case, I'm going to have to say no one can."

"You really are a dumb pickle, aren't you?" I said. I laughed. "You know who I am, right? I'm the Soul's Circuit Alchemist. By most standards, which I'll say right here and now, I don't necessarily agree with, I pretty much surpassed the laws of Equivalent Exchange. What I do goes against every rule of alchemy ever written. The master alchemists are the ones who suck at my stuff the worst."

Braddock looked at me intentionally, pretty intrigued. "So, the Colonel heads a research team looking into a form of alchemy he 'sucks' at?"

"Oh, no," I said. "Maes doesn't suck at it. Are you kidding? He can't do it at all."

Braddock's eyes widened. "You serious? All that stuff at the presentation, you telling me he can't even do any of it? He talked like he could."

"Maes can do plenty," I said. "He's got his own contributions going separate from mine. Yeah, this team doesn't completely absolutely revolve around my stuff. My stuff's just the best ever. That's all."

"But," said Braddock. "I'm sorry, Major. I don't understand. How is he your commanding officer?"

I rolled my eyes. "Because, smart one, if we gave out leadership positions based on talent or potential or whatever, we'd be in a world of hurt. Maes is a mega great leader with a pretty rational head on his shoulders, mostly, as far as everyone knows. Well, I kind of know otherwise, but it's not enough to scare me. Usually. Sometimes he eats so much freaking cornbread I feel like he's going to die of some kind of freaking overdose. It's nasty."

"You seem to have a knack for bossing people around," Braddock said. "I could see you leading."

"Totally," I said. "But, like, just no. Bossy? Yes. Maes Effect? Not so much."

"Maes Effect?" he said. "You mean how he charms folks?"

My eyes widened. "Yes! See? You get it!"

"That what got you?" he said with a teasing smile.

"Not even a little," I said. "Seriously, if there's one thing I know about love, is it's a verb. Mama taught me that. Maes is dang amazing, but he didn't 'emotion' his way into my life." I shrugged. "Though, in all honesty, he can be a total woman if you give him the chance."

Braddock was laughing. "How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"You're rude," I said. "I'm twenty four. I'm actually three years older than my husband. Not joking. Everyone thinks I'm joking when I say that the first time. Come on. Cuties can be cougars too."

"Twenty four, huh?" he said. "You got a head on your shoulders."

"I know," I said. "Don't tell anyone. It's simpler if they think I'm a doofus."

He snorted. "That's your excuse, huh?"

"You say, 'excuse.' I say, 'reason.' What's the difference? None. That's right."

"Not in politics, anyway," he said in a mumble like he was pretending to say something on the down low. He made kind of an apologetic, wince-face. "Guess I shouldn't be joking about our government around the Furher's daughter."

"You serious? Fuhrer's daughter just means I've got plenty of material to joke about." I stretched my hands and waggled the fingers. I looked at him. "Okay, Major. Let's do this thing. You and I are going to close this deal. Hell yeah!"

I handed him some latex gloves what with us handling nasty garbage and everything. He snapped them onto his big hands. His palms and fingers looked pretty calloused, I noticed. I wondered if he'd been doing regular manual labor before he got the State Alchemist title a week ago. Made the fact that he hadn't been eating all that much really quite sad in a bad way.

"Appreciate this, Major," he said, meeting eyes for a moment. He looked down and laughed. "Going through jobs, you learn pretty fast the guys that don't do the big work get assigned the small work."

He said it with a laugh and all, but I heard the hidden meaning in his words. My face straightened and so did my postured. I reached my hand to hold his shoulder all man-to-man.

"Got news for you, Braddock," I said. "My daddy's the Fuhrer, and, while they may not be wild about me, the counsel likes him pretty well. And Dad likes the people I like. Mostly. And I like you. You don't have to prove yourself on Nina's turf. Get it?"

He nodded. His smile was thin suddenly. Weary. He shrugged a shoulder. "Don't mean to worry. Just, peacetime doesn't provide much demand for State Alchemists, and the new guys are always the first to go if there are budget cuts."

"Ha!" I said. "Get that idea out of your head." I spun an apple core in my hand. "If they ever need to downsize this program, I'll be the first to go. Count on that."

Braddock was called the Bowman Alchemist. He specialized in long-range transmutations, similar to Aunt Mei's, but he used a bow and arrow rather than kunai, so he could transmute from way further distances then auntie did. Really, it was alkehestry he worked with. That was the root of it, whether he'd realized or not. He said he'd had a neighborhood friend immigrated from Xing when he was a kid and they'd played all kinds of stupid games with slingshots and frisbees and alchemy. That's how a guy who doesn't even graduate high school becomes a talented alchemist.

Well, Maes and Uncle Ed were kind of in the same boat on the education front, but they had their own reasons.

Point was, Braddock had learned alchemy from messing around with a friend who already knew it. He hadn't studied a single textbook until he'd started prepping for the State Alchemist exam a year ago. Most of the stuff he knew, he admitted, he hadn't even realized there was a name for. In other words, he was just like me.

So it wasn't exactly all that surprising when, about ten minutes into the two of us altering arrays, he put his hands down on the slate and the roasted sunflower seeds sprung into a little garden of sprouts. It probably would've grown further, but Braddock got spooked from it actually working and he took his hands off.

"What the?" I squealed. "Damn! What?"

He laughed, staring in awe at his hands. "Here I thought I was just humoring you. It really worked."

I grabbed his arm and shook him hard. "Well, duh! Jeez! That was all you, Braddock. Hope you know that. I never would've disconnected those outer lines. I mean, that makes sense, but I wouldn't've done it. I mean, because that's not how I do it. I like a free flow, but losers like you need limits and direction, so this new way totally rules! Why didn't Uncle Fullmetal figure that out? I get the others being clueless, but usually I can count on him to be insightful and junk."

"He's a master, right?" Braddock massaged his arm like I'd been rough on him. "Guess my cup's just a little emptier."

I looked around, checking for approaching ears. I whispered, "No telling, but you're officially side-kick number two."

"I'm honored." Braddock put out his hand for a shake. "And, while we're at it, let's keep the rest private too, Mustang."

"You mean the you being poor?" I said. "Or do I have to shut up about everything?"

"Just," he said, fighting a smile, "the poor thing."

"Gotcha."

He chuckled. "And we're not poor. Just been in a rough spot. We're getting out okay."

"I think so."

"Mind telling me how you knew?" he said. His eyes focused on mine. "Not to sound defensive, but I don't have memory of disclosing all that much about my personal life during certification."

"My husband," I said. "He said you had five dependents on your forms or something. Said thirty eight year old guys with wives and kids don't join the military unless they're hurting in their wallets. Maes isn't wrong all that often."

Braddock kind of frowned. "Oh."

"Chill," I said. "No one picks up on this stuff. Maes picks up on everything. No secrets with him."

"Sounds like my wife," Braddock said, all fond and distant. "Makes for an interesting marriage."

"Yep," I said. "Mostly because Maes can't read me worth a damn. I mean, sometimes he can, but not like with other people. Told you. I'm a freak. I'm kind of like a second language to him. Or third. I don't know. I think he speaks 'Maes Effect' as his first and then 'normal' as his second. He knows some Xingese from his auntie. I can't decide whether he speaks that better than 'Nina.' Well, actually, no one _speaks_ 'Nina.' Except me. Maes just understands it better than most people. That make sense? Guess maybe not so much. Whatever."

"Hey," Braddock said. He pointed to the trash. "Mind if I do it again?"

"Go for it!"

While he went through the garbage and transmuted it into a weirdo garden-orchard project, I went to the 'dud' bin and rescued some pulp pancakes. They would be redeemed! This was perfect. An hour into our renewed grant and we'd already had a breakthrough big enough to renew us next year and the year after. Maybe forever! Okay, maybe not, but it was nice to think big in my head.

Mikey, George, Olga, and Frank came in from lunch all together. Braddock stopped what he was doing—currently lopsided strawberries. Braddock and me just stood there for a moment, waiting for the others to notice. Oddly enough, but not all that odd, Frank noticed first. Probably because he was the first to pan over the room for his man-crush. He stood still, gaping a little.

"Major Mustang?" he said. "You made progress?"

"Hell, buddy-boy. We cracked it!" I pointed at Braddock with my thumb. "Turns out the new guy's way useful. Well, today he was, which is more than plenty as far as this crowd's concerned, am I right?"

"You," said Mike to Major Braddock, "cracked it?"

Olga Armstrong strode to the table and planted herself by Braddock's side. She stared at the sparse sprouts of resurrected food and nodded. "Good work. Olga enjoys strawberries. Antioxidants good for muscles."

Braddock gulped. "Thank you."

Private Fuery came to stand with me. "This is impressive, Major Mustang. I'm a little sad I didn't get to see you solve it."

"Aw, thanks, Furry!" I said.

Mike piped up, "It's _Fuery_, Major."

Fuery smiled at him. "I think she knows."

"Of course I do," I said. "I swear I only mess up on accident about a third of the time."

Braddock had everyone's attention pretty soon once I'd told them he was the one who figured it out and all. Well, he'd kind of only tweaked the final detail, but I was hungry and I didn't feel like taking credit. I grabbed a raison out of the trail-mix on George's desk and transmuted it into a conservative grape vine on the way to my desk.

"Now, how does she do that?" said Frank, sounding cheated more than admiring.

"You got me," said Fuery.

"Grapes grow from vines, right?" said Mike in a kind of totally audible whisper. "You can't grow grapes without vines. Raisons don't even have seeds!"

Braddock gave me a smile. "I think that's the point of this project. Doing the impossible."

I popped a purple grape in my mouth and said, "Bingo," before crunching down.

Frank looked to Braddock. "You can do that with the matrix right there?"

Braddock laughed. "Not _that_," he said, nodding at me and my grapes. "What she's got going is a little advanced for this array. I'm not sure _all_ the Major's skills can be put into a drawn matrix. Is that right, Mustang?"

"Jeez, I'd hope so," I said. Sure, I could make stuff grow, but I could drain the life out of it just as easily. Pretty important power like that not be made universal.

"Are those good?" said Olga, pointing to my snack.

"Actually," I said, "yes."

"Olga would like to try, if possible," she said.

"Ask Fuery," I said. "It was his raison. Past my jurisdiction, you know?"

George laughed all cute. "Go ahead. Pass me one while you're at it."

We were kind of being slackers since Maes and Uncle Fullmetal weren't back yet from their daddy-date yet. Finally, I pulled out my watch. I glared at the time. They'd been gone over two flipping hours. Two!

"What gives?" I mumbled to myself. "He said an hour tops. He usually doesn't go more than forty five minutes late with me."

Dang. I was kind of beginning to worry he'd gone someplace way fun without me.

* * *

**Okay, that's all for this chapter for now. Hope it's got you excited! Don't fuss about Maes only making a brief appearance so far. He's coming back into the center of things at the second half of this chapter, and he pretty much stays in the center from there. Well, duh.**

**Challenge: Tell me how you saw Nina and Maes's lives turning out. Tell me what you'd put in their sequel if it were up to you. I really am curious. I may even take suggestions.**

****Give me some feedback and let me know you're out there! Until next time!****


	2. Major's for Life, part 2 of 2

**Author's Note: Okay, I get that this chapter could be considered its own, but I really think of it as more of a part two of the first chapter (as stated before) since they do a lot of exposition to kind of introduce where the characters are three years after FL. So, as promised, part two of the first chapter.**

**Update: AB has gone from 'on pause' to 'on hiatus'. My hard drive is yet to be transferred and I just don't feel like waiting around anymore to write. So, I'm going to take a break from AB for a while and focus on FL2. I'll start posting AB again as soon as the hard drive is recovered. Until then, enjoy FL2! Keep me posted on your thoughts and let me know you're out there, because I can pretty much guarantee I'm as excited as any of you about this sequel :D**

* * *

Chapter 2: Major's for Life, part 2/2

Lieutenant Colonel Frank Charlie took it upon himself, as the highest ranking officer present, to tell us we couldn't go home until Colonel Elric came back and dismissed us. Seriously, I would've just ditched anyway, but I felt pretty bad leaving everyone behind at Maes's mercy. They really didn't know how he worked quite all the way. Maes was super responsible, super accountable, super efficient, and, on super special occasion, super impulsive.

It took a lot to get him to do stuff without warning like I did on a regular basis, but if Maes had come across something seriously serious or had a beautiful random idea while out with his dad, there was a steady chance he wasn't going to remember his subordinates waiting at his office for a substantial while. And we had hours before we were allowed to go home without dismissal.

So, I occupied our team while we waited; like a kindergarten teacher keeping kids calm during a lockdown.

I handed Olga a notebook of plain paper and a pencil that was probably Mike's since I'd stolen it off his desk.

"Since Maes and Uncle Fullmetal missed the grand unveiling," I said, "why don't you try capturing the highlights, huh? You can draw stuff you remember, but it would be way cool if you drew stuff you weren't around for, like how you imagined it going down. Make it exciting. Like, this took three months." I grinned, bending my neck to try to look her in the eye past those long, shaggy bangs of hers. "The art of portraiture has been passed down the Armstrong family for generations, but you'd be their first illustrator, correct?"

Olga flipped open the notebook, squaring her broad shoulders. "Correct. Olga will do this." She got to work.

"Braddock," I said, pointing at him where he stood at the slate table. "Transmute some cute little pots, huh? Get creative. We're going to grow the higher ups some thank-you pressies with our new research. Not even a day since their decision to renew our certification and we're already showering them with gifts. How's that for instant gratification?"

Braddock chuckled. "On it, Major." He took a plastic fork and a crunched soda can out of the trash bag and looked to me. "You said to get creative?"

"The creativest ever!" I said.

Braddock turned to Olga. "Hey, Private Armstrong?" She looked up and he smiled. "You mind multi-tasking? Thinking it might be a nice touch to put the officials' faces on their pots and I could use an illustrator's touch."

Now, that's what I was talking about! I looked to cute little George Fuery and said, "I got a mission for you, Private."

He perked up. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Go around the building and ask the counsel members' secretaries if there's anything our guys are allergic to or hate or something." I shrugged. "If we give them something they don't like, they will honestly think I did it on purpose. No joke. Seriously, you need to find out for me."

He nodded. "Yes ma'am." Fuery was adorable and the secretaries all wanted to give him cookies.

"Mikey," I said. "I'm kind of tempted to give you a fun job, but you seem to genuinely enjoy writing up reports and this is the biggest breakthrough we've had since Uncle Ed pulled off my 'Exchange' theory, so I'll let you have the honor of writing it in the paperwork."

He smiled big and said, "Yes, Sir!" What a total nerd. All grateful about paperwork. Pretty sweet.

I turned to that Lieutenant Colonel Franky and fought a kind of mean laugh. He was rigid in his seat. I could tell he didn't like me giving the orders. He wasn't a snob about rank or anything, not like my dad. He usually didn't have much of an issue with me getting all 'insubordination' on his ass. He just respected Maes too much to feel comfortable with me taking over in our commander's absence. It was like Frank thought he was failing Maes by doing anything whatsoever without consulting him first.

"So," he said, meeting my eyes. "What do I get to do?"

"You?" I said. I hugged my arms. "You get to track down my husband." I felt my face sink against my control. I looked away. "Not that I'm worried or anything, but he's an hour and a half later than he said he'd be. He usually wises up and calls to apologize sometime before the forty five minute mark, you get me?"

Frank nodded. His eyes seemed serious, like he knew I was being serious. I'd learned pretty quick with Frankfurter that he liked me pretty okay on the whole, but he _trusted_ my serious side. I'd learned a while after that Frank didn't extend his trust to just anybody. So, basically, when I was serious with him, stuff got done.

As he slipped his arms into his black coat, he asked in a low tone, "And what will you do, Major Mustang?"

He asked it more like he was asking a partner in crime than his subordinate. I looked at the door. "Well," I said. "I got a pretty nasty phone call from the Fuhrer this morning after he got wind on me planning on skipping the presentation. And then I sort of skipped anyway. So, I should probably go give him some hugs and kisses so he knows it's not his fault and stuff. They always think it's their fault, you know?"

Frank shrugged on the coat and stepped around the desk. "Not to be rude, Mustang," he said, "but would it really kill you to add some, 'Yes, sirs,' and, 'No sirs,' to your vocabulary? You seem to have room for just about everything else."

I walked with him to the hall. "Wow. Not rude at all."

"Got news for you," he said. He'd changed countenance now that we were walking the hall alone together. A little bit of attitude. "Mincing words isn't your strongest point, but it isn't mine either. But I do it, because that's just what you got to do around here. I know you've had your struggles, and I'm not saying to man up about it, but I'm not sure you realize the kind of trouble you put your advocates through. All the Court Marshall's the Fuhrer's had to repeal for you, all the higher ups he's had to talk down, the diplomats you've rubbed the wrong way since you joined, I'd be a little pissed myself."

"Sure," I said. "I piss myself off all the time."

He frowned. "You almost got discharged this morning. The Counsel talked about it right in front of us. They asked us each about it and we had to rack our brains, one by one, to make you sound as valuable as we could without owning up to your downfalls."

"Downfalls?" I said. First time I'd heard that one. To my face.

"You better thank Colonel Elric when he gets back," said Frank. "If it weren't for him, you'd be packing your stuff. They'd decided your 'irrational behavior' had become a danger to the military. The Fuhrer had to sit there and take it because there was nothing left to defend you with that wouldn't look like bias. You were gone, Major."

"You going to tell me what Maes did?" I said. "I'm way curious."

Frank looked not quite pleased about how light I seemed to be taking his warning. Key word there being, _seemed_.

Frank met my eyes sternly as we continued down the hall. "Major Mustang knows her limits and she strives to respect them. It's because of that that I believe her to be the most rational person in my acquaintance. The only thing that could make her dangerous is if she conducted herself any differently."

I blinked. "I'm going to assume you were paraphrasing Maes on that. You can't pull off third-person like Armstrong."

He sighed angrily. "Listen, Mustang, I'm trying to be as nice about this as possible, but you've been causing a lot more conflict than I think you realize. This country's gone through a lot to get to the place it's in and it deserves better than soldiers who encourage other soldiers to disregard their government. I've seen you work for three years. I know what you can do. If you got your act together, you could do a hell of a lot of good. To be honest, it's not the insubordination that's disgraceful. It's the fact that you make such a point to underachieve after men died to give our generation the opportunity to be something better."

Wow. Mouthful much? He was panting. Glaring. Fists clenched. I swallowed, because he'd gotten me angry and he didn't realize yet how much he preferred flippant Nina to angry Nina. Okay, so he wanted to play it that way. I kept my eyes down. My heart pounded.

"Frank," I said. "You don't get it. Underachieving is the best thing I've ever done for this country."

"You think so?" He was too pissed to deescalate without a fight.

I took a steady breath. I reached into my pocket and pulled out one of the sunflower seeds I'd planned on teaching my dad how to transmute into a flower once he'd forgiven me. In a moment, I gave life to it, circulated just enough for it to sprout into a stem with a baby bud. I let a burst of energy into the plant and the bud opened, way tiny for a full grown sunflower, but beautiful and warmly golden all the same. I met Frank's eyes.

"Giving life to things that are running out of it," I said, "is something worth sharing."

I kept my eyes on him as my fist clenched around the flower. I felt it waste and shrivel as I broke the circuit, blocked the input and let the flow of the Dragon's Pulse carry the life left in the flower back into the earth through the open output. Frank's eyes were locked downward at the dead flower in my hand. I kept my eyes on him. I knew what death looked like. I wanted to watch what he looked like as he saw it for the first time.

"Taking life," I said, "is what men died to end so our generation could be something better. In other words, Frankfurter, underachieving is pretty much the best I can do. Maes wasn't kidding when he said it'd be dangerous if I quit holding out on the military." I put life back into the flower and I watched it bloom bigger and brighter than before. I smiled. "Though, I do have a pretty massive problem with him telling those jokers _I_ would be dangerous. It's the rest of you we'd be worrying about if anyone else got ahold of this junk." I caught his eye. "Understand?"

He was straight faced and tensed, because he knew he'd been let in on something not everyone was fully let in on. Duh. Seriously though, Frank was the guy to trust with stuff if you wanted to trust someone and he was definitely the one to convince otherwise when he found a reason not to trust you.

"I apologize, Mustang," he said. He also had a strange comfortability with admitting he'd been wrong. "I spoke out of ignorance."

"Yeah, duh," I said. "That's how we like to keep it, yes?"

"I'm a little disappointed in myself." He looked to the side. "Colonel Elric…I thought he was climbing to the top to succeed the Fuhrer. He's standing out to take the heat off of you?" He was looking at my revived wonder-flower.

"Don't be disappointed in yourself," I said. "It's totally sissy. And, for the record, Maes being Fuhrer? Ha. Ha. Ha. He cares way too much about his family to put his country first. Not happening. He'll tell you himself if you ask."

"Guess I should've figured that one out, too." He kind of almost smiled some. "Thank you, Major. It's not every day I get to hear new information directly from you."

"Wait, like before Maes tells you first?" I laughed. "He's such a flipping gossip. What a woman. I swear."

"I was referring to briefings."

"Well, duh." I handed him the flower. "For you."

He took it. "Thanks."

"I don't want to carry it."

"I figured as much."

We got to the elevators where the hall diverged to the exit on the left. Time to part ways. I pressed the 'up' button and waited.

"Catch him if you can," I said.

"Right." He gave me an appreciatory nod. "Good luck."

"Mm." I sighed. "And Frank?"

He paused on his way toward the exit. "Yes?"

I crossed my arms and stared at the gray elevator. "I underachieve for the good of mankind, but I do the insubordination stuff as an unfortunate side effect of being me. You bitch to me about it again, I'll transmute your face to your butt."

"Yes, ma'am," he said sharp.

I snorted. People had been calling me ma'am since my dad had become Fuhrer when I was seven years old. Had gotten old fast. Not when people said it like Franky had just then, though.

I rode that elevator up to the top floor. Daddy's office was top, obviously. Had to do junk like that for status's sake. Sucked for my mom. She'd always been into going by the stairs. They'd remodeled the command centers across Amestris to accommodate all the booming research programs, so Central's building was currently towering at seven stories, almost two times the height it'd been twenty years ago. Thing was, I was fairly certain my mom walked the stairs anyway half the time.

As I walked the hall, it was pretty easy to tell which of the people who passed me by were friends and which were not so much. I'd gotten kind of infamous around the building as either the soldier who didn't care about politics, which a lot of people liked tons, or the soldier who didn't care about anything, which some people considered kind of a disgraceful issue with my character overall.

I'd asked Maes once, "How long you figure before they wise up and realize I care about _everything_?"

He'd grinned, ruffled my mop, and said, "You're great, you know that?" and that had been it. I was pretty certain he hadn't really gotten what I was trying to say, but that was a regular occurrence with me with just about everybody. Maes got credit for understanding half of my gorgeous-dumb babble.

I got a stiff salute from a sergeant, the one with dermatitis and green highlights in her hair. She was so freaking cool-looking. It was a shame I'd had to purposely forget her name and ignore her stupid guts in retaliation to her hating me and all. She'd begun our first conversation in the copy room with a size-up stare and a following stink-eye. Didn't know why. She was nice to people when I'd see her before she saw me. Like, she loved Maes, and he'd complemented the size of her chin mole the first time they'd met.

Thing was, this extreme-looking sergeant wasn't anything special as far as workplace relationships went for me. There was no such thing as regular acquaintances in my book. None of that colleague, co-worker, comrade bull. It just didn't come natural. People all had their personal takes on me and even the shallowest relationships with people I'd only passed in the halls and never said a word to, the people I'd probably never say a word to and would definitely never say a word to me, had some complexity between us.

Frank Charlie had been out of line trash talking my so-called underachievement, but there was serious truth to the qualm that my presence in the military had been something of a disturbance. From the beginning, it had been black and white in all the wrong ways. People loved me or hated me. People who were neutral just hadn't heard enough or seen enough. It was simple as that.

Mister Alex had gushed tears of respect when he'd seen me all certified and junk and, before he'd transferred east, he had let me hitch rides on his shoulder down the halls. That was back when my spine was still mildly fresh from getting messed up in Xing and the cane had to come out every time I overdid it. First time Armstrong had seen that cane, he'd sniffled like a touched pregnant lady and held his arms out in an offer to lift me, like he'd been doing since I was three years old. It was crap like that that made me love soldiers.

Then there was Focker, for example. Okay, sorry, but his name really sounded close to something else that, in my opinion, defined him just fine. He was this tall, strapping, middle-aged, square who shushed me every time I talked too loud in the library or in meetings that I hadn't been invited to. Plus, he had a weird haircut. All dark and coarse and trimmed flat at the top like a freaking hedge. So, yeah, of course I called him General Mother Focker sometimes when I greeted him. And, come on, who wouldn't've told the ambassador of Creta the General's name was pronounced, "Fuh-kar," right before the two had gone on live radio together to announce the new trade agreement to Amestris? I mean, the ambassador had such a thick accent already, no one would've known the mispronunciation wasn't an accident if I hadn't taken credit a week later when I'd overheard some PR folks stressing on how to smooth the broadcast over.

I'd tried behaving. I really had. Problem was, I hadn't really known to try in the first place until my dad had _told_ me I'd been misbehaving. People would just say stuff like that, stuff like I'd done something inappropriate, I'd been disrespectful, I'd crossed some line. Some line I hadn't seen and still didn't see, and kind of never would see. I just didn't see it.

Growing up, I'd stayed in this weird little mold, not even. It was more like a tube, going down it, contained and pushed ahead at a set pace that was comfortable and boring and bound not to last. I'd been controlled by some kind of fear, something that had come out of the abuse and horror from the lab during my first three years of life, something that lingered even though most of the memories from that place had been blocked out by my mind for, like, forever and a day. I'd been calm, mostly, and pretty much compliant until I was twenty one. It'd been my natural state of being, just to survive, to thrive in surviving under my parents' love and protecting.

Then I'd met Maes and we'd gone on our little adventure thing and I'd completely blown my lid. All that unresolved stuff I'd blocked out, all the stuff that had been holding me in place, guiding me through that tube, broke away. I'd resolved it. I'd come out on top.

And now I was floundering around, shooting from one place to the next at will, because without the tube to guide me, all there was was empty space waiting for me to run across freaking barefoot. That was a good thing! Problem was, I'd found, people didn't see it like that.

They saw the minor detail that, since I'd had that stupid tube to guide my actions all my life, I'd never really learned to guide myself like most kids did growing up. So, when the guidance went away, I didn't turn normal or anything, because there was no normal to go back to. I'd never developed that kind of thought process and I'd finally accepted that I never would. I had my own. It was just too late to relearn how to think. Honestly, I didn't want to. Maes had said he didn't want me to either.

My dad had said the same, but I had a pretty good idea that he didn't know what all that entailed. Pretty clear given that I was on my way to his office to apologize for missing a meeting I'd categorized as less important to my research thing, what with me being on kind of a roll. And that had paid off, yes? I touched the sunflower seeds in my pocket. Yes!

"Major Mustang!" greeted an elderly secretary from her desk through an open door. She smiled pearly white and waved.

I paused at the doorway. "I love it up here," I said. "The halls always have people in them and the doors are open sometimes."

"Not that way down under?" she said, shuffling papers.

"Researchers, lady," I said. "Not politicians like up here. We're pretty much some of the most socially awkward folks you'll ever meet. Like, no joke, Furry Fuery-cakes keeps a legit asthma inhaler in his desk. We're nerds. It's beautiful."

"Hm," said the secretary. "I don't know. Sounds like you researchers just like to keep the fun behind closed doors. You don't fool me for a second, Mustang."

"Yeah!" said a young gal in a blue receptionist skirt, stepping into view to stand in front of granny's desk. She shot me a grin. "Can't help but be a party with you around, Major."

I didn't even recognize her, but she knew me, so I smiled back all huge and greeting-ful. "Dang, then the world must be a pretty boring place when I'm not around, huh?"

They laughed. These were primed examples of soldiers who liked me. As soon as I went on, they'd go back to overly formal and military civilness, but, until then, I'd get their brightest smiles of the workday.

Mom had talked about it once. "That's how it's always been with you, Nina," she'd said. "Ever since you were a little girl. When you ran and hid, people either became offended by your aversion or they stuck around long enough for you to come out."

Of course, my mother was under the common 'mom' impression that no one could help but love her child as much as she did if they just got to know me. Ha. Focker? No.

"You're here for the Colonel?" asked the blonde gal.

I frowned. "That husband-guy? No, he's out with his dad having an extended victory lunch or something. I'm here to see King Daddy. Missed a meeting on purpose. Not really grateful to the old man, I guess, considering how bad I screwed up last week."

"Oh?" said the blonde girl.

I shrugged. "Kind of got unofficially Court Marshaled for unofficially 'lying' to Uncle Ling about Major General Kasey's age. I mean, she's a woman! Women are usually flattered when people round down. How was I supposed to know she'd lose experience points with Xing's stupid counsel? I mean, Ling's a fifteen-year-old emperor! Are those stiffs seriously going to use lack of _age_ as a legitimate argument for denying Amestrian military officers honorary dual citizenship? I'm sorry, but if that's how it is, she's better off without them. I mean, have you ever tried chopsticks? I swear, I had to impale half the stuff I ate. I wouldn't take dual citizenship if they begged me to." Which Uncle Ling kind of had a few times already. I'd been like, yeah, sorry, but last time I visited, I got kidnapped for two months, lost my brain to bonker-nuggets, and got skewered by a freaking terrorist. Not chomping at the bit to take up semi-permanent residence in your beautiful little country, homunculus boy.

"I wouldn't hold your breath on her thanking you later," said the old secretary quietly, an amused smile on her red mouth.

"Yeah, well duh," I said. "It's not a present if they have to thank you for it later."

They blinked like I'd said something confusing. Blondie looked to the side for a sec with a rippled brow. She looked back at me.

"You said Colonel Elric was out?" she said.

"Yep," I said, and I had to remind myself that I'd been the one to tell him to leave me out.

She seemed all thrown off. "Well, that was fast. Though, the Colonel does seem to have a knack for getting things done quickly."

I frowned. "Hm?"

"He was just here," she said, looking more confused. "He passed by less than an hour ago. I thought there might've been a meeting, you know? So many officials gathering in the Fuhrer's office like that."

"It is recertification day," said granny.

An hour ago? She considered that quick? That had to mean whatever meeting had been going on had looked 'big deal' material, and I knew full well the recertification stuff was already a done deal.

_They'd decided your 'irrational behavior' had become a danger to the military._

I swallowed. "You sure it was Maes?"

"Well, yes," said blondie. "He stopped at the door to say hello."

I bit down on my lip. "Mother Focker!"

Granny kind of let out this reflex-laugh that she quickly stifled with her hand to her mouth. I shook my head.

"I gotta go. Like, now." I scampered away from the door before they could ask what was wrong or why I seemed surprised or whatever. I'd blown it, hadn't I? They'd reconsidered the extent of my usefulness and Maes was probably advocating my case at that very moment. And when they asked about the progress of my research, he'd have to get around the past three months of major burning through funds and getting nowhere. Because he didn't know about my breakthrough yet! Dang! Bad, bad, bad timing!

I got to the door to my dad's office in a pant. Hadn't really realized I'd been rushing so bad until I stopped with my boots skidding. I stood practically toe to toe with the bodyguard posted outside Daddy's door. Yep, a guard outside a meeting meant business.

"Dang it!" I said. I fought a wince as a steady ache went down the small of my back and lingered there in a warm cluster. I rubbed next to my spine with the base of my palm. "Ow. Running in clunky boots with all that damn snow out to get my joints really does a number."

The guard guy gave me a sympathetic smile. It was Phil, my absolute favorite bodyguard person of all time ever. He'd been the one with me when I'd first met Maes. He'd been the one to kind of assist in Maes kidnapping me because Phil was just cool and understanding like that. He'd eaten noodles with me on my front stoop when I was bummed about life and I'd gotten his two adult daughters to start talking to him again after I'd run into the two in a boutique and invited them to my wedding on account of their dad being the best ever. Aside from Maes, Uncle Ed, and Selim, there was one other person who called me by my first name in the workplace, but only when we were more or less out of earshot and wouldn't get looks.

"You alright, Nina?" he asked all quiet because he knew I wasn't wild about the 'young veteran' cliche. He looked funny when he worried, because he was the shiny kind of bald that made his forehead just run into his scalp with no definite end and his brow-wrinkles made some kind of temporary boundary between the two.

I sighed, dropping my hand from my back. "Something's going down, huh?" I nodded at the door.

He nodded. "But, you're alright?"

I cracked a smile. "Completely. Thanks for asking." I pointed to the door a little more decisive this time. "They are very much about to fire me and I have total evidence that they need to keep me on the team, so I need to get in. Now. Don't distract me."

He sank. "This is orange level clearance."

I gulped. Orange? It usually went yellow, green, blue, brown, orange, with red as the top where the Fuhrer got to hand pick the people he wanted in the meeting. Orange was highest classification a person could get into with a clearance badge. I was blue level. I had thought Maes was too.

"Did they," I started. I bit down on my lip. "Did they figure something out, do you think? About, you know, me and my stuff?" Phil didn't know details, but he knew I had 'stuff.'

"I'm level green, ma'am," he said. In other words, they really hadn't let him in on a single thing.

"So," I said. "You going to let me in?"

He looked frowny. "I'll need to see your identification."

"You know I'm blue," I said. I met his small eyes. "So, you going to let me in?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. "You'd be giving me gray hairs if I didn't shave my head."

I smiled. "Yeah, sure, Philly. _That's_ why you're bald."

He smiled back and stepped aside from the soundproofed door, totally risking his job for my sake for the zillionth time it seemed. As I tested the knob, I gave him a punch in the arm that said, "Thanks bunches, guard man."

The knob clicked open. I took a breath and sighed it out. "Cross your toes and say a prayer." I walked into the room and shut the door behind me.

There was a long, rectangular mahogany table in the middle of Dad's big-ass office. I was used to a long table, but not this long. It occurred to me that there had been another table brought in and pushed against the usual one to make a longer table, and not just to accommodate the fifteen or so big shots around it. No, there was stuff on those tables. Stacks of papers, official-looking stationary with calligraphy and stuff, manila folders, files, maps. Maps! There was, like, five maps spread over the table, like placemats and tablecloths under the stacks of papers. Then, in the very middle where the two tables met to become one, there was a giant map flattened out, a map of the world, pretty much. Wide, colored, labeled, and covered in markers representing different countries' flags.

It was over this map that Maes was leaning, his eyes scanning, darting. I could see in an instant. He was doing that thing that he always did, the thing where his mind worked so fast that his body could barely keep up. His pupils would practically vibrate from looking back and forth so fast, like some kind of freaky nervous tick. He could read an entire novel in the course of about an hour, sometimes less, depending on how much he wanted to savor it. He'd just shrug and say, "I've got a good memory," like that even made sense.

My dad was standing across from Maes, dark eyes on the map, arms folded tight. Mom was to Dad's side, as usual, looking all serious with a black clipboard in front of her. Uncle Ed was slouched in a chair next to Maes, arms overlapped slack, looking overall displeased. What the heck was he doing there? Uncle Ed's clearance was as blue-level as mine was!

The rest of the people at the table were all way high ups, just like one would expect at a freaking level orange, all looking about as displeased as Uncle Ed, but not with the same sulky flare he'd seemed to have mastered. Of course, Focker was there, all the way at the end, thank God. Everyone was being quiet. Some looking at papers and stuff, some writing stuff down and whispering to each other, Major General Kasey standing to the side of Dad's desk whispering into a phone like the moment needed to be quiet. Mostly eyes were on Maes and the map. Dang, that's where my eyes would've been.

I stepped closer, because no one had noticed me come in. That was my habit, sneaking in without meaning to. Mom said I'd been abused into being quiet as a kid and it had never worn off. Well, in one way, at least.

I stopped a few respectful paces from the level orange table, put my fist to my mouth in the classic stance, and cleared my throat. Eyes shot up like a wave.

"Um," I said. "Just so we're clear before I high-tail it, this meeting wasn't about firing me, was it? Because I totally just busted in to tell you we'd made that breakthrough people had been saying we weren't ever going to be making. So, I guess firing me now makes sense since you got what you wanted out of me and all as far as you guys know, but I figured it was only fair that you have all the facts before you seriously discussed, am I right?"

They'd paled. Every single one of them. My dad looked sick to his stomach, eyes staring and strained. My mom was just frozen and Uncle Ed was squeezing his stump like my presence made it suddenly ache. Focker and Kasey in particular looked ready to pull a gun on me and kill me slow.

Maes looked the palest to me, though. Not because he really was palest. It was because he never got pale when I messed up military-wise. He never even flinched. He usually smiled like I was a good person or something. He called me Major Gorgeous. But he'd paled this time, blood drained even from his lips, making him look sickly. I knew what sickly Maes looked like. His breaths seemed shallow and tight, like he was panicking or something. I would probably not've noticed the intensity of that split moment of silence if it hadn't been for that white, bug-eyed look on Maes's face.

His hand touched over his chest lightly, right where his automail apparatus had been fused from age twelve to eighteen, an unconscious gesture he did when he felt threatened.

"Major Mustang," he said, tone firm and humorless. "Your presence was not requested. Leave immediately."

"So," I said, "it's not about me?"

"Not yet," Uncle Ed mumbled.

"Let yourself out, Major Mustang," said Dad all sharp and authoritative. His eyes were glaring like I'd done something infinitely wrong. I couldn't recall ever getting that from him before, the icy stare. A little disorienting. I could tell he was stifling the urge to yell as he said, "Now."

I got a brief look at Mom's face and saw she was almost as peeved to see me as my dad was. I sucked my lip, feet shuffling back toward the door.

"Gotcha," I said. I cleared my throat before reaching for the knob. "By the way, sorry about skipping the presentation, Daddy."

Dad stood straighter, and I could tell he was deciding whether it was worth it now to correct me on referring to him on informal terms. I beat him to it and corrected myself.

"Fuhrer Daddy." I gave a brief smile to the room and twisted to open the door before they could not-smile back.

Mistake if there ever was one. As my body twisted to reach the knob, I felt that familiar tight pang in the midpoint of my spine. I heard the unwelcome pop of vertebrae, the fraction of relief and then the intense ache that followed as everything around it realized that loosening it had shifted things out of alignment. Again.

"Damn it," I hissed.

I balled my fists at my sides, teeth grinding, quenching whines of pain. I swallowed. I forced my hand up then let it fall back to my side when the movement shot pain into my pelvis—how did it even get there? I grabbed the knob with my other hand, not as painful as the right, and turned it, the rotation of my arm hurting a little more than it should've.

I heard a chair scoot and took a glance over my shoulder to see Maes had turned his whole body to face me from the table. His eyes were narrowed like he was either catching on or already had.

"What is it, Major?" he said.

So, he was still calling me military jumbo? He hadn't realized, then.

Talking always hurt when this happened. My ribs had to expand to accommodate the air needed to push words out. "Embarrassed," I managed. That had to be enough explanation. Girls got all kinds of awkward from being embarrassed, right?

"Embarrassed?" he said.

"Mm," I said. I bit my teeth and pulled open the door. Sound proofed. Extra thick, extra heavy. It hurt to pieces, having to counter its weight with my body in order to swing it open all casual so Maes wouldn't notice it didn't feel particularly good to do things all casual.

I slipped out. I let it swing shut behind me. The latch clicked into place. I swallowed hard, sidestepped next to Phil, and let myself lean against the wall.

"Nina?" he said.

"Ow," I practically mouthed.

"What is it?"

I closed my eyes, repeated in my head the words Maes's parents used to recite to him during a bad storm. Not your pain, Maes. Separate yourself from it. Never seemed to work for him, but it did me alright. Of course, I'd had a history of dissociative episodes for a couple months there, so separating in general was more natural for me.

Phil rested his heavy hand on my shoulder. "Miss Mustang."

Instant pain. My eyes scrunched. I jerked and that hurt worse. "Jeez, Phil! Move off! I threw my back out. Happens all the time. Just give me a minute."

I sank onto the ground and curled my knees to my chest. It hurt to stretch my spine like that, but sometimes things sorted themselves out if I gave them a chance.

"Soon as Knox figures out his scar tissue research," I mumbled to myself, "I'm getting a new back."

Phil was kneeling beside me. "You're too young to be talking that way, Miss Nina."

I opened my eyes to him and smiled at that worried, wrinkle-browed look on his face. His small green eyes peered at me, warm like wet grass in Xing. Grass without blood. None of that psychobabble junk.

"I'm so sorry, Phil," I said. I looked at my knees. "Really completely."

"What for?"

"Pretty sure they're going to fire you this time," I said. I could practically feel him bristling beside me. I risked the pain of reaching my hand onto his. "Think I just walked in on a war meeting. But I'll make it up to you in noodles soon as I'm out of prison. I swear."

He sandwiched his hands over mine. His voice was thin. "I'll hold you to that, Nina."

* * *

**Aw! Nina and her bald guard guy! Anyone remember him from the beginning of FL? Well, somehow he's still around after doing Nina's bidding for three years running XP**

**REPLIES!**

Pockychan:Haha, you're so welcome! I kinda made my own day :P

Silverpedals1402: Given that Maes is Maes, I don't see how a family could be avoidable for those two, haha.

RoseblossomWarrior: Yeah, it's surreal, right? FL seemed so done for months.

mixmax300: Yes! Writing toddler Nina has been such an experience. It made me want to write grown up Nina on a whole new level :D

pitstop96: Ha, Nina's kind of a weird good samaritan like that. Poor baby. She does her best.

KTrevo: Yeah, well, I couldn't wait for it to be updated regularly either, obviously XD

PhantomhiveHost: Indeed! I'd imagined stuff like Nina getting pissed at Maes for putting her through childbirth, then, a couple months later, she'd be like, "I want another."

DanniMaeAnime92: I can hardly wait for you guys to see where it goes, either!

author12306: Thank you for noticing my scrapbook reference :P Yeah, I'd kinda imagined them retiring after a few years of progress as well, but this plot had other ideas.

awesomenaruto: YESSS! Don't you worry. I've been waiting quite a few fanfictions to write me a powerful Ed. He's got plans in store.

**Fanart galleries have been increasing, mine and my collection from fans. Check 'em out if you feel so inspired! Link on profile.**


	3. Stagnant

**A/N: So, um, big news and changes and stuff. THE GOOD KIND! It's a bit much to explain in a nutshell...So, yeah, last Thursday I had a magazine signing for some stuff I got published in my junior college's literary mag and I won first place for prose, and I'd had something published in the magazine's debut last year as well (if anyone remembers), so I decided the next day I was finally ready to try getting a contract with a publishing company so I can submit actual novels instead of just short stories (prose) and poems. Mm-hm.**

**I'm writing a novel. From scratch. I've already had a series in progress for a while now, but I want to start my publishing career with something simpler that can stand on its own. I'd planned on writing it in the course of a week to get me motivated, but just no. I could've, but it's Spring Break and my sister's been in town and stuff. I'll write later.**

**I'll probably submit to a certain company I have in mind within the next four months. I will keep you posted, because they have a website where they take submissions to be read and rated by users before being considered for publication, which would mean you guys would get to read it for free before it's published.**

**Yeah, so, a lot of you have asked me to keep you updated in case I ever get anything published. There you go.**

**Aside from that, I do plan to continue fanfiction on the side, because it's been my best resource of practice out there and I just love it and love my diehard followers! Plus, it does magic for writer's block. Plus, corn.**

**Thank you for all the support, guys! Like, it's been a blessing getting to know my audience on such a personal level. My experience is that most authors' direct feedback from readers tends to be limited once under contract. This has been fun and I'm excited for it to continue and expand.**

**So, I'll tell you who to look up when the time comes, because you don't know my full name yet o.O That's right! My first name is not, in fact, Author! Actually, I guess my full name's kind of ordinary by most standards, but I consider it awesome cuz it's all mine.**

**Okay, onto the real stuff. Note: 'Axis &amp; Allies' is an old board game, to anyone who's too cool to know that.**

* * *

Chapter 3: Stagnant

I'd been lying flat on my stomach on the fluffy bedroom rug for a while. No telling how long, really, only that the sun had been about gone when I'd flopped down and the stars were shining on pitch black now.

I was waiting for my back to stop throbbing. Usually it would've by now. I mean, jeez, it'd been three years. But, then again, usually I didn't make a habit out of overdoing it multiple times in a row. It wasn't my fault. After I'd gotten expelled from the orange level meeting in my dad's office, I'd taken a minute to recover from throwing out my back, then waited another few minutes to find out if my dad was going to send someone to make me keep my mouth shut about whatever it was I'd walked in on. It'd seemed like something you'd keep quiet about.

I had realized after a while that they were treating this as more of a close call than an actual incident, which was good concerning Phil keeping his job. After I'd made that realization, I'd eventually gone back to my team's room on the third floor. From there, I'd faked it and tried really hard not to twist or bend over too far in case my back decided to throw itself out again.

Frank had gotten back an hour later with no trace of Maes. Duh. And I'd told him not to worry about it. I'd figured it out. Don't ask. It's nothing. He was just going over stuff about our recertification upstairs. Don't bother with it. Seriously.

The time had turned slowly toward evening. The clock struck five and the workday was officially technically over. Frank said everyone could go home and George said something about having time to make a snow house with his niece before dinner on his way out. Braddock stopped at the door to give me a private look that said, "Thanks for you know what." And I winked to show him I knew what.

I sat in my desk from there, just staring at the door as they filed out, one by one. Mike said a warmer goodbye to me than usual, probably feeling loved since I'd let him write up a boring report he actually had cared about. Soon, Frank and I were the only ones in the room. Frank stared at me as he buttoned his coat.

"Major?" he said.

"What is it, Frankincense?"

He cracked a brief smile. "There something I should know?"

"Probably," I said. I leaned my forehead on my desk. "Go home. I'm going to wait for my hubby."

"You sure?"

"Mm."

"He could be a while?"

"Mm."

"Okay, well, if that's what you want." He paused. "Not to state the obvious, Major, but there's a steady half foot of snow out there on the ground and taxis get pretty scarce in weather like this."

"I'm aware," I said. "Don't worry. I won't try to walk home if I get bored."

And I'd held true to that. I hadn't walked home on account of being bored. I'd walked home on account of this poor janitor guy wanting to lock up the room so he could get home to his family. It had been coming up on seven. I couldn't just make him wait with me.

So, I'd looked around the halls on my way out for anyone still around, anyone on their way out with maybe a car I could borrow a ride in. On a gross, cold day like that, though, everyone had gone home for warm drinks and stuff. Just like Frank had said, there were zilch vacant taxis out by the time I got to the side of the street. So, I'd walked. Just a few blocks from the Command Center to me and Maes's townhouse, but enough blocks in dirty snow and chilling evening wind to make me ache like nothing else by the time I'd gotten home.

I'd stepped out of my boots at the doormat. My socks and coat had come off on my way through our living room. By the time I'd made it to the bedroom, I'd shed everything but the button-down white dress shirt hanging open over my underwear and bra. I'd doubled onto the floor right before reaching the foot of the queen bed and craned my arm up to pull a flannel thro over my shaking body as I tried to thaw.

Now, finally, after who even knew how long of snuggling facedown in the carpet, I forced myself to my hands and knees and crawled to the doorway where my pants rested half inside out. I plunged my hand down the deep uniform pocket and retrieved my pocket watch. The face said it was coming up on nine o'clock. If the higher ups were trying not to seem suspicious, they were doing a greatly bad job of it.

A war meeting. I'd never seen one, obviously, but it had looked like one. Just like they described them in the novels, scant pictures in textbooks. A bunch of buffs around a big giant table looking serious, shuffling papers, hovering around maps with markers on different countries like a game board.

Maybe they were playing 'Axis &amp; Allies'?

I heard the lock on the front door turn then winced when I heard the sound repeat after a moment. A sign it'd already been unlocked. Oops. The wind blustered loudly against the open doorframe for a beat before the door slammed, shutting out the disgustingly wintery night. I curled on my side and waited.

"Nina!" Maes said from the door. His boots clomped on the floor. Dang, he'd just mopped yesterday! He bolted into the bedroom with a passion. I looked up at him and saw his face was a little pale with some kind of panic, but, aside from that, had a pretty even tone; not blotched from the cold. So, he hadn't walked. Made sense, as he was supposed to have been my ride.

He knelt beside me in a hurried way, searching to meet my eyes. "Hey. Hey, you okay? The door was open and I saw your clothes all the way over here."

I groaned. "Yeah, what'd you expect, you little jerk? I got so freakin' cold walking home, I had to peel off the layers to thaw my core."

"Thaw?" He blinked. "Oh." He smiled a little and sank with his back leaning against the foot of the bed. "Thank God. I just," he closed his eyes wearily, "saw the clothes and my mind went to the worst, you know? Force of habit."

"Of being a worry wart?"

"Being a husband." He petted the top of my head like I was a black kitty. He'd gotten into stroking my hair since it had gotten long. "You okay? You said you had to walk?"

"You were my ride, genius."

His brow knit. "Couldn't someone else have dropped you off?"

I rolled my eyes. "I was waiting for you, genius."

He laughed. His eyes showed some kind of concern or something and he said, "You really walked?"

"Uh huh."

"In the snow?"

"I'm not some kind of paraplegic," I said. "I can walk a couple blocks in the snow."

"Sure you can," he said. "I wish you wouldn't."

"Should've driven me home, then, genius."

He raised his eyebrows. "I seem to be getting a lot of sarcastic _genius_ from you tonight."

"Pretty astute observation, genius." I yawned and buried my face in the carpet. "Can you make my back better, please?"

I heard the silence.

"Are you still complaining," he asked, "or do you actually want me to heal you?"

There was an edge of disbelief in his voice. I usually didn't take well to Maes using alkehestry on my back. It eased pain and restored function, but acted more as a bandaid than superglue, leaving me stiff the next morning and more prone to relapse than if I'd left it.

"Get out your stupid gloves," I said, "genius."

"Okay."

I heard his elbow-length wonders jingle as he slipped them on. Maes's healings were amazing. Painless but for maybe a little uncomfortable pressure on the big ones, with pinpoint accuracy and instant relief.

His hand slipped under my shirt and I felt a tingle at his paten leather fingertips as he scanned the damage. His other gloved hand pulled under my belly where the sword had gone in. The pain eased from there. I let out a breath and inhaled nice and deep.

"Thanks, baby," I said. "That's perfect."

"You sure?" he said, easing up a little. "I can do more."

I rolled from his healing hands so I was on my back looking up at him. "Nope, you're golden."

He gave a smile. "You look like a dog wanting its belly scratched."

I sat up quick and my back didn't ache when I did it. "Don't you be scratching me, you weirdo!"

Maes put his hands up like at gunpoint. "Never said I would, weirdo. Promised I'd never do it again."

"You've promised that, like, so many times."

He sank. "You just look so scratchable sometimes."

"It tickles to heck."

"I like it when you laugh."

I pouted. "Forced laughter only benefits one party, and it's not the laughing party."

"Fair enough," Maes said. He scooted, laid on the carpet with me, still all layered in his coat and uniform.

I sighed and dragged my hand lazily over his face. "Sorry about interrupting your fancy war meeting today."

Maes stiffened for a moment, then paused with wrinkled brows. "War meeting?"

"Mm," I said. "The maps and stuff. Looked pretty intense. Sorry."

Maes stared at me. His mouth broke into a smile. "You're great, you know that?"

"Why?"

He chuckled, pulling his hand over my waist. "War meeting? Really, Nina?"

"Well, what else would it be?" I said. I was being cute again, wasn't I?

He let out a breath through his nose and looked to the side. "I'm not exactly supposed to…"

"Hint?"

He met my eyes. "What am I good at?"

"Everything."

"Military-wise," he laughed.

I thought. "Being promoted?"

He sighed. "Why do I get promoted?"

"You got skill."

"What skill?" This wasn't going as easy as I'd counted.

I sucked my lip. "You…think different."

"Okay," said Maes. "And why might _thinking different _be useful in a level orange meeting?"

"Higher ups ran out of perspective on some kind of situation?"

"What kind of _situation_ might include that meeting's setup?" He smiled. "Aside from a war meeting."

I frowned. I'd been about to say that and he knew it. "I give," I said. "What, were you guys discussing foreign relations or something? Explains you guys not wanting me in the room."

"Very good, Mrs. Elric," he said.

"Foreign relations, huh?" I said. I asked him knowing he'd keep his mouth shut, "What about them?"

"Can't exactly say, Nina." He slackened, turning his eyes to the ceiling. He stared, graying over, like he was going through stuff in his head. "I was scared there for a moment, though. Can't say why. You know. But it looked dicey at first glance. Easy to see why they'd want a pair of fresh eyes to take a look."

"You want to just tell me what it was?" I said. "Or are you going to hint around until you trip over your tongue?"

His eyes shifted onto me and he laughed all cute like he was laughing at himself. "No, I'm done. Sorry."

He looked uneasy under the smile and I wondered if I'd shrugged him off. He scooted closer so our bodies were touching and shifted to face me. I shifted to face him.

"Why don't we have a night in?" he said. "Eat at the table. Use the fireplace for once."

"No corn."

He hooked his arm around me. "Maybe not for you."

"I mean it, Maes."

"Fine."

I sat up. "I'm serious."

He stood and put his hand out to me. "Yeah, fine, Nina."

I let him pull me to my feet and stepped forward to grab his coat off him. We looked way too off balance with me all stripped and him all layered. He looked happy for a moment until I transferred the giant coat onto me.

"Oh," he said. "You cold?"

"No," I said. "Just evening things out."

"Oh."

"Dinner, yes?" I patted his arm. His eyes followed me as I sauntered all cute out of the room. "Then desert."

"I always considered married life as more of a snack," he said contemplatively. "No schedule, just there when you need it."

That was pretty much defining male-kind on the simplest of terms. Maes compromised, though, because he liked the way his coat made me look like I was wearing a macabre circus tent with me as the undersized center pole.

Maes made grilled cheese sandwiches with extra cheese and stuck an over-easy egg in each for protein or deliciousness or something. I figured it was the most romantic thing he'd done in a while when he put back the can of baby corn he'd snuck out when he'd thought I wasn't looking.

We ate at the table, kind of a novelty for us. We usually ate on the countertop or on the front stoop, which was where I'd eaten a lot of my meals when I'd been living with my parents and been left to eat alone while they were at government-related dinners. Maes talked about lighting the fire for once, same as he'd been talking about since the weather had first turned cold months back, but, of course, it just didn't happen.

I mean, come on. I'd been half undressed before he'd even walked through the front door. What did he think was going to happen?

I snuggled against his warmer skin. Giantest downside to getting naked in the winter; the cold sheets afterward. He hugged his ape arms around me like a thick, coiling blanky. His tired breath sighed against my face and made my bangs part on my forehead.

"Sleepyhead," I teased.

"Not a contest, Nina" he said. "Man, is it really midnight?"

I looked over Maes to his nightstand with his glow-in-the-dark choo-choo train clock. I frowned, sinking into the mattress. "That's weird. You didn't turn back into a pumpkin this time."

"Not necessarily true," he said. "Aunt Riza calls me 'pumpkin' on accident all the time when your parents come over. Just you wait."

"Yeah," I said. "Key word there being, _accident_."

"It's okay," he sighed. "I'd rather be—"

"Don't," I said, "say corn."

"Oh, God, no! What do take me for? Some kind of cannibal?" He shuddered. "I was going to say I'd rather be a carriage."

"Oh," I said. "Sorry."

He yawned. "Forgiven." He shifted a little better under the blankets and sheets and settled. "Okay, quit working me up. Time for bed."

"We just did that," I said.

He chuckled against me. No reply besides that. Pansy. I didn't get how people slept after the act. Just made me all the more awake. Then again, my ability to sleep had never been mainstream.

"Maes?"

He grunted.

I leaned my cheek against his collarbone. "Do you think I should maybe just retire?"

He got a little rigid. "No."

I nodded. "No." I sucked my lip. "Is that all?"

He scooted around a little to get us eye to eye like we were actually talking about it. "Look, Nina, just because a couple officers got their militaristic feathers ruffled doesn't make you unwanted. You're the backbone of this government right now and I mean that. Without you, we're stagnant. That's when peacetime turns worse than otherwise. At least conflict stimulates the opportunity for growth."

I laughed. "What, and I'm conflict?"

"No," he said. "You're growth. You're growth and you know it."

"Dunno," I said. "Been feeling pretty dang stagnant lately. You sure you're not the one growth-ing?"

"I've been riding your coat tails since we joined, Major," he said. "I'm a top-notch soldier, but you're the ripple in this operation. Now, quit talking about stupid stuff and go to sleep. I have to be awake in less than five hours. Got a follow-up meeting in the morning."

I squeezed my arms around him. I kind of wanted to tell him I felt bad for him, but I knew I'd just end up calling him a working stooge or something and that would just get us talking again.

"Okay," I said.

His lips kissed my head all warm with his breath; his silent, "Good night." It was a matter of minutes before his arm felt heavier over me and his breathing became long and soft with sleep. I closed my eyes and counted his puffy exhales like counting sheep. I counted five thousand and twenty two before my mind turned off and let me sleep.

…

I woke up from the conclusion of a sketchy dream about my mother in-law getting pregnant again. I sort of smiled to myself as my eyes blinked open to darkness. No telling how often poor Aunt Winry and Uncle Ed must've been having accident-baby stress dreams since the twins had happened. Maes had been right. Those two really were like rabbits. Made getting pregnant look as easy as breathing. Easier.

My heart skipped. Right! I'd seriously almost forgotten.

I rolled out of Maes's hot hold, felt goose bumps rise on my arms at the shock of the chilly sheets in comparison. Maes groaned, kind of the deeper sleeper between the two of us and not wild about being disturbed in most cases.

"Sorry," I whispered. I patted his arm. "Forgot my stuff."

His voice slurred. "Stuff?"

"Yep, I got it." I felt around for the bedside lamp on my side. "Go back to sleep. You've still got about an hour."

He groaned again when the light came on. I watched him roll onto his stomach and nuzzle his face into his pillow. I skimmed the ground until I found my shirt lying in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed. I pulled it on to fight some of the chill and called it good enough. I'd be back in bed with my thermal husband as soon as I downed my pills.

I was going to take a shortcut by climbing over Maes to get to our bathroom where the prescriptions were, but I ended up moving floppy because of me just having woken up and all and I accidently kneed him in the stomach a little bit. Maes grunted loud.

"Oops!" I whispered, like whispering did something.

"Ow," he said all disoriented. "You…are pointy."

"Sorry," I said. "Go back to bed."

He rolled over and blinked all scrunched like he'd never seen light before. "Nina? What are you doing? It time to wake up?"

"No," I said. "I just forgot my stuff. Almost. Go back to sleep. You've got an hour."

I swung my leg over him with a little more success this time and tried to continue over the bed. His hand grabbed my ankle loosely like he wanted me to hold up. I turned to tell him to go to sleep again, because he just didn't seem to be hearing it.

"Stuff?" he said before I could speak.

"The pills," I said. "Supposed to take 'em with dinner but I do it later sometimes. Doesn't make a difference. Actually, it probably does. Think I should go get a cracker or something? I mean, taking them on an empty stomach hasn't hurt me before, but why chance it, am I right?"

Maes narrowed his eyes. Looked kind of displeased. "Oh. Those pills."

"Yeah," I said. "Sorry. Needs to stay constant in my system. Guess the vitamins can wait until morning, but birth control's kind of something you got to keep up with, get me?"

Maes's eyes stayed narrow, but not at all in the sleepy way anymore. His breathing was too intentional for that, too hardened and quick. I rolled my eyes and puffed out a breath. I scooted so I was practically hovering over him.

"Okay," I said. "What's got you?"

He looked like he was grinding his teeth a little, like he was frustrated. He looked away all grumpy. "Do you have to take that one?"

I blinked. "That one? You mean, birth control?" I snorted. "Um, yes."

"It's synthetic hormones," he said.

"Yes?"

He looked at me. "That's a bad thing, Nina."

I shrugged a shoulder. "Prescription drugs don't tend to be good for you."

"Yeah, but," he scooted up on his pillow and propped himself up on his elbows, "Nina, you've been on it for two years. That's a long time to be taking something that harsh on the system."

I felt my face sulk. "You're still spooked about last month."

"Well, yeah," he said. He was looking a little more animated. "You looked like death."

I rolled my eyes. "Guys are such babies."

"It was a lot of blood."

"That's what periods are."

"Not that much." He swallowed, expression tight. "It was too much, Nina. You looked like death."

I leaned back from him and folded my arms. "It wasn't the pill."

"It was."

"No it wasn't."

"Yes," he said, sitting upright. "It was. The doctor said. I was right next to you when he said it."

"He said it was possible," I said.

"Nina…"

I let out a harsh breath. "What do you want me to do? Just stop taking them? Because rubbers worked so well for your folks, right?"

He gave a defensive glance. "Depends on how you look at it."

"I said I wasn't ready for a baby, Maes."

"Two years ago."

I knit my brow. "You want one?"

"No!" He closed his eyes. "I mean, that's not what I meant. It doesn't matter whether I…" He cut himself off, fastening his lip between his teeth like a lock on a box.

My body felt weak as I noticed the discussion shift gears. "What?"

His eyes drifted to the ceiling. The light of my bed lamp bounced off the side of his tilted face in a warm glow. Something about it, his molten eyes focused so hard on absolutely nothing and not a hint on me, made me feel cold in my white shirt.

"Maes?" I said. I sounded so small. Did I feel small?

"How long are we going to do this?" he said.

"Do…?"

"The birth control," he said. "And all the rest."

My mouth tightened. "You're being all vague."

His eyes moved onto me with unexpected urgency. It made my breath catch, the odd pleading in his gaze, like he was clawing at my heart to keep from falling.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't do this anymore. I can't. Come on, Nina, we're so ready it hurts."

I took a breath. "Since when?"

He sat up more and leaned his stabbing gaze into me. "Since our wedding night when you said, 'How about no protection?' and I said, 'Good call.'"

"I was being impulsive," I said. My body practically ached, having that brief conversation repeated at me. I looked away. "We were high on life. Didn't think it through. I told you that."

"Yeah, you did," he said. "After three months of trying for a baby and getting nowhere."

My eyes stung like I'd rubbed mascara into them without thinking about it. "Which turned out to be a good thing in the end."

His face set into a frown like he was hurt. "Just stop, would you? Look at us, Nina. You spent your first three years of life as an alchemic experiment and I was an invalid fighting death until I was eighteen years old. We don't have a shortage of reasons we might not be able to…"

"We can cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Dammit, Nina!" His hand gripped mine tight. "It's been two years. How long are you going to keep putting those poison pills down your throat before you fess up?"

"Fess," I said stiffly, "up?"

"What got you taking those things?"

"Doc said they'd trick my body into not getting preggers?"

"Come on," his head rocked back and he sighed. He looked at the wall in a sulk for a sec. His fingers tensed around my hand and he looked back at me. "You've been taking them," he sank, "so you'll have some kind of reason for not conceiving besides the fact that we just can't. And if we're ever going to get anywhere, we have to…"

I ripped my hand away and lunged forward to shove him as hard as I could, enough to make him rock back. "You jerk!"

I stumbled onto the floor and pretty much flew into the bathroom, not even flicking the lights on before slamming the door and locking it behind me. Pretty quick, I heard Maes knocking and saying my name and other stuff. I got the light on and fumbled through the medicine cabinet for the pills. My hands shook with every movement and I realized at the pain in my chest that I'd begun to cry.

"Nina, open up!" he said. The door seemed to boom with his fist beating against it. "Nina Elric!"

My breath broke with sobs as my trembling fingers ripped open the little round compact of daily pills. My tear-glazed eyes traced the lines of thin tablets, ready to be punched out, one by one by one. Saturday, Friday, Thursday, Wednesday, Tuesday, Monday, Sunday. Saturday, Friday, Thursday, Wednesday, Tuesday, Monday, Sunday. Saturday, Friday, Thursday, Wednesday…

"Nina, what's going on in there?"

Wait, I was there for Thursday's dose. Why was Wednesday's pill still in the container?

"Nina!"

My hand shook, fingers fumbling. There it was. Right next to Thursday. Wednesday's small, oval tablet sat ready in its spot, ready to be punched out and swallowed. I sobbed deep, body shuddering.

"I'm going to force it open!" Maes said.

I'd missed it. After two years of taking those toxic synthetic hormones every evening after dinner, I'd skipped Wednesday's dose. And I hadn't even known it. I caught blue light glow through the cracks in the doorframe and realized Maes was forcing his way in with alchemy.

The compact rattled in my grip. "Most women," I said, "would be worried right now."

The lock undid and Maes burst through. I chucked the compact in the sink and snapped my fingers. Maes jerked me back from the burst of flames like I'd been planning to lunge into them or something. The room filled with the smell of melting plastic. Smoke cleared from the sink to reveal the incinerated remains of my longtime prescription. Maes pulled me back into his arms and I cried. Took a minute with how hard I was shaking and how loud I was being, but I caught Maes's chest shuddering against me and I realized he was crying too.

"Thanks," he said shakily, "for getting rid of them."

"You're," I sputtered, "welcome."

He let out a feeble laugh. "That's one way to do it."

I sniffled hard. "Mm-hm."

"I love you," he said.

"I love…" my voice broke. "Sorry."

"Don't," his voice trembled. "Don't apologize, okay?"

"Okay."

"About anything."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay, Maes."

We stumbled back to bed together, like a couple drunks staggering out of a bar, flopping on top of each other and pulling the covers over us in bunched handfuls and crooked overlaps like a badly layered Elric cake.

"Maes, we'd make terrible bakers." I sniffled, pressed my snotty nose into his chest at the pale discolored skin where I'd healed his lungs.

He hugged his arms around me. "Well, we got to leave my mom something to do, right? When she's not chasing after my brothers."

"Been a handful since they started walking."

"Been a handful since they were born."

"Two hands' worth."

Maes's laugh was watery. "Damn, how unfair is that? Two in one go and they weren't even trying."

"Think they'd give us one?"

"No, my dad's way too fond of them. And you know Mom. She loves being a mom."

My eyes pushed tears down my cheeks as I shut my lids. I fought the hitch in my breathing, but thinking about it made it hitch more. "God! What now?"

"Doctors," said Maes simply, like he'd had the word in his head for a long time. "We go to special doctors who tell us all the stuff that's screwed up with our reproductive systems and then we ask them if any of it's fixable."

"And if it isn't?"

"Well," he said, "some of the best people I've known were adopted."

Sounded just like his dad, just like what Uncle Ed had said when I'd asked about Selim not being able to make babies. I gulped. "Am I maybe a bit of a homunculus kind of?"

Maes held me tight. "What?"

"Selim Bradley," I said. "He can't make babies since he was made from human souls and all, you know? Homunculi can't make babies. And I had all those other souls in my life force before we separated a few years back, so that's kind of like a homunculus, yes?"

"That's bull and you know it." He took a breath. "You want my honest opinion, I'd say it's probably me. Had so many close calls as a kid, got so sick, pumped full of all those drugs to keep my organs going. It would hardly be surprising if my body turned sterile a long time ago without me having a clue."

"Maes?"

"Yeah?"

"I want my babies to look like my parents," I said. "The biological ones. Because that's bound to show up somewhere in the genes. I mean, who could say? Maybe mystery baby-mama was a redhead and you and I could have a gold-eyed freckled little guy and he could grow himself a nice orange beard for my birthday in forty years and he'd look like a freaking lumberjack or a very large leprechaun, yeah? That'd be the best ever. Ever!"

"Or maybe he'd look just like you."

"Um," I said. "No."

"My dad's got some pretty dominant features," said Maes. "Look at me and my sibs. Sophie takes more after my mom than any of the rest of us, but even the boys are looking more and more like him these days."

"Can we name him _Bob_?"

"No."

"Fair enough."

"I like _Jim_."

I blinked. "Like the kid on that pirate ship and junk? I read that in grade school. Abridged version."

"We could name our daughter _Hawkins_!"

"Oh, my gosh! Set much?" I sat up on him all bouncy. "Want to go to the doctor right now? Go in, get fertile, come home and fertilize?"

"I'm," he laughed, "not sure that's how it works, honey."

"You're right. We'd probably need an appointment."

He laughed harder. Good to see. For a second there, he'd looked genuinely torn down. Perfectly fine to acknowledge, of course, but Maes didn't do too good when he gave hopeless stuff too much thought. The way he'd been talking, it had sounded like he was close to having exhausted the hope right out of the situation.

"It's nice to think about," I said.

"Mm."

"Just not too hard, right?"

He pulled me back down to him. "Mm."

"Guess there's no point in you going back to sleep. You're due to wake up in fifteen minutes."

"Mm-hm."

I wiped my tearstained face with a handful of sheets. "Guess I'll keep you company. I'm all jazzed up."

"That so?" His eyes held mine as he ran the backs of his fingertips lightly down the side of my face. "You said fifteen minutes?"

I closed my eyes and met his lips. "Mm-hm."

Maes went into work ahead of me on the condition that I wait for him to drop back home after the meeting to pick me up. No more getting impatient and walking. I was up and ready same as he was pretty much, but I wasn't invited to the meeting and if I went in early with Maes, I'd end up having to do paperwork or some other useless garbage while I waited on the rest of the team to make it in. So, Maes kissed me bye-bye and went ahead.

I decided to call Phil up and ask him if he'd gotten fired.

"Major Philip Thomas speaking," said he. "Who's calling?"

I cackled into the receiver. "Wait, you still answer your home phone with your rank tacked at the front? We talked about this, Philly. You really expect your daughters' boyfriends to last if they get gruff soldier-daddy on the line every time they call?"

His voice warmed. "Never thought of that."

"You're as bad as my dad," I said. "Well, actually, you're really way not. The whole, 'burning suitors alive,' deal's kind of hard to top, am I right? I am." I shrugged. "But, you know, intimidation by phone, that's nice too."

He chuckled that rumbly, beefy-guy way. "How can I help you, Nina?"

"Just making sure you're not fired and stuff."

"Well," he said. I winced. "Not yet. Probably lost some good graces for next time you sucker me, though."

"Oh, God, you scared me!" I said. "I was missing you already, Phil."

"Touched," he said. "So, was that all, Miss Nina?"

"You got stuff to do?"

"I occasionally eat breakfast and put on my uniform before going into work."

I smirked. "At least you save time on combing your hair."

"So there's plenty of time for you to call me and make bald-jokes at five thirty in the morning?"

"Six fifteen."

"Six fifteen?" He paused. "Oh, sh—"

"Zip your dirty mouth! I got innocent ears, dammit!"

"That all, Nina?" he said in a rush. "I got to go. Talk to you later."

I bit my lip. "Hey, hold it a sec. I got to ask you something way important." I closed my eyes. "Except not. It's actually very much trivial. It's no big deal, but..."

"Shoot, kid."

"Um," I said. "Your wife, when you were still together and you got her all knocked up those two times with your daughters and stuff," I paused. "Did she like the pregnant part, or was it all that swollen feet and puking on the carpet junk?"

Silence.

"So," I said. "Did she like it, or what?"

He sounded unsure, "Nina?"

"Did she like being pregnant?"

His breath sighed into the receiver. "Well, yeah. How could she not? She got to know our girls months before anyone else did. Yeah, I guess she did like it."

I breathed. "That," I said, "was a really crummy answer, Phil."

I hung up.

I flopped onto our leather couch. "This shouldn't matter. At all."

I mean, I was adopted, right? And my parents had made it very clear all my freaking life that they wouldn't have had it any other way.

I remembered my mom's eyes dropping and then that feeble attempt at a smile when I'd asked her eleven years ago if I'd been too much of a project for her and dad to have time for any other kids. She'd told me not to think like that, like it was my fault. She'd said I would've made a great big sister, just Daddy couldn't make babies, so it hadn't been an option.

I remembered Mom telling me how much she would've liked to have been my biological mommy and gotten to hold me when I was all infant-y and new. Then she'd shut her mouth and never talked about it again because she'd shown too much hurt when she'd said it and I'd probably given her the, "Is it my fault you're sad?" look.

I traced my fingers over my tummy. Jeez. Back when the twins were still inside Aunt Winry, back when I'd gotten to touch their souls—so rhythmically joined with one another, nested in their mother's life force, pulsing with unadulterated currents of perfect energy—there was nothing to compare it to.

Three souls' circuits with beats so effortlessly aligned that I had held my breath. I'd frozen, because even as the world's most able life force alchemist, even as I matched their beat and rode their circuit, I'd known that I couldn't join it, not with alchemy. Not with the same intimacy a mother and her unborn children achieved through conception.

And I'd been excited, because conception hadn't seemed like such a hard thing to pull off at the time.

Boo.

On.

That.

* * *

**Oh noze! Wat's this? MORE side effects of crappy backstories? Author, have a heart!**

**Nina and Maes are so cool. They do everything their style, even life struggles. Especially life struggles. And Maes considers married-life as a snack.**

REPLIES!

naes cornstang: *hugs reader for awesome guest name* Actually, his last name's Focker in the series. I dunno if they ever mention his first. I could have too much fun with that...

Harryswoman: Haha, I snap, crackle, and pop all over as a side effect of moving. My cousin once felt back because he thought he'd damaged me in a hug. I was like, no, it just does that. Come back and gimme a hug!

Silverpedals1402: Yeah, poor Nina. I'm sure she's walked into worse. Like that chapter in FL when she walked in on Maes with his automail showing that first time...

KTrevo: We LERVE Phil! And Amestris going to war with Xing would be hilarious. Ed would fake Roy's signature on a declaration of war because Ling left him a massive unpaid room-service bill last visit. Nina would end it a few weeks later by calling Ling up and threatening to tell the world that he still sleeps with a night-light shaped like his own face but with open eyes instead of squinty ones as to remember his bro-mance with Greed in days gone by.

author12306: Ha, you remember him! Btw, I'm gonna do that doll website you told me about for some of my new OCs. Because Olga need pretty dress worn by Armstrong women for generations.

mixmax300: I'm so sorry you were confused :( I feel like you missed out. Feel free to ask for clarification anytime on anything that stands out to you. And yes, Nina has changed since we last saw her in FL. She internalizes a lot more. Maes has changed too, turned more into a grown up, I guess. Husband vs boyfriend.

RootlessGirl: That thing you said about me shining through my writing, that is what it's all about right there. I actually stove to be a pro writer so I could address certain stuff about my life in my writing that might get through to readers who may be going through similar things. My goal is to get famous someday and get noticed by people who normally wouldn't listen and use the fame to 'make a difference,' mostly give a voice to the mentally ill, actually. I thrive on sincerity. Thank you for the acknowledgement!

ArtisticFantasy: Thank you so much! I mean, seriously. One of the things about my writing style is I have this kind of 'voice' that comes through no matter what I'm writing. The fact that that's appreciated and not discredited as OOC or w/e means tons :)

**HAPPY EASTER, EVERYBODY! HE IS RISEN!**


	4. Timing

**A/N: I am SO not quitting on Accident Baby, guys. Don't you worry. It's just on forced vacation. It will be back and it will be completed in all its glory. I dunno when. For now, I'm focusing on FL2. Please note that I'm also currently working on my own novel, so updates for fanfictions aren't going to be as disciplined as the schedules I've maintained in the past. God willing, it won't be too bad, though.**

**Long-ish chapter today! Because it had to be long! It's packed with stuff! Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 4: Timing

So, I'd had breakfast twice already and Maes still hadn't stopped back at the house to pick me up. I was supposed to have already been at HQ, like, an hour ago. Otherwise, I might've called the in-laws to hitch a ride to the office with Uncle Fullmetal. I eventually got a call from Maes, a short one, him saying, "I'm about to get caught up in another meeting, baby. No way I'm getting away. Don't you dare walk. Call someone or stay home, okay?"

I called Elicia first. I knew she'd be busy or gone at her ballet school or something. She had a life. I just kind of wanted to see her. She didn't answer her phone, so I moved onto Aunt Winry.

Amidst the squeals and whines of my brothers in-law and Aunt Winry's intermittent, "Skylar, what happened to your pants?" and "Avery, don't bite your brother! Brother is not breakfast!" my dear sweet mom-by-marriage told me she was a little busy trying to get the boys ready to pick their big sister up from the train station. Apparently Sophie had moved her tri-annual visit from Risembool to this month. This week. This morning. And she hadn't bothered warning anyone until about three hours ago before boarding her train.

I loved Sophie so much. Jeez, if the State of Amestris hadn't revoked my driving privileges a year and a half ago after all those failed attempts behind the wheel, I might've gone to pick Sophie up myself just to encourage her blatant efforts to be a total burden to everyone who crossed paths with her.

I called my mom. She was always busy—and usually a little ticked at me these days—but I was running out of options before I had to resort to calling friends at work or cabbing it up.

"You've reached the office of the Fuhrer," said the secretary kind of tight. "The code you dialed…"

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "I know what I dialed. It means I don't get put on hold. Listen, lady, think you could grab Lt. Colonel Hawkeye for me? She's blond, beautiful, and pre-menopausal. Nine times out of ten she's standing in for the Fuhrer's shadow."

The secretary's voice flattened. "Please hold on a moment, Major Mustang."

Dang, she knew me? I bit my lip. Felt bad for not knowing her. I thought about asking her name. I'd asked Phil's name that one time after months of not bothering to remember, and now we were total buds. Good things came out of bothering. Sometimes.

Mom sighed into the phone. "Major Mustang?"

"Hey, Mom." I smiled a little so maybe she'd hear it in my voice. "I'm at home, you know. Technically doesn't count at us both being in the workplace. You can call me Nina if you feel so inspired."

"Wrap it up, Major. I'm in a meeting," she said. "Wait, what are you doing home? Are you sick? Does Maes know?"

I giggled. "Oops. Did I set off the 'mom' alarm?"

"Are you alright?" She sounded dang serious. So serious that I actually thought about it before answering by reflex. Mistake.

I swallowed, because I didn't feel a hundred percent fine, in all honesty. But she'd meant in a more physical sense than I had in mind. "I'm good, Mom. I just need a ride in. Maes left early for some meeting and he called half an hour ago to tell me he couldn't swing back and pick me up seeing as things had run over. Again. And Aunt Winry's all busy with the boys and Sophie coming to Central really unexpectedly early as of this morning. Plus, I told Maes I wouldn't walk to work this time, which was a good thing to tell him since I had to get him to heal my back yesterday instead of just letting it heal on its own and that always leaves it weaker the next day. Or days. I don't know."

"I'm on my way," she said sharply. "Don't move, got it? You stay where you are, sweetie. I'm on my way."

"Mom, it's not," the phone clicked, "that urgent." I rocked my head back. "Damn it."

The door was ringing about thirteen minutes later. Impressive timing considering the snow still making slush in the roads. As I came to the door, I heard a key scratching at the lock. Mom had probably second-guessed herself on having me get up to answer the door. I unlocked the thing and swung it open.

"Come on, Mommy," I said, hip tilted. "I told it out to you on the phone. Maes healed me. I don't need to take it _that_ easy. I can answer a freaking door. Good grief."

She tucked her keys back in her pocket and gave me a little smile that said she was relieved to see I wasn't in some kind of wheelchair or something.

"Well, excuse me for worrying," she said in some kind of pant. "It's not every day I hear about you letting anyone use alkehestry on you. I just assumed it had been bad."

"Past tense," I said. I got my coat off the hook. "I'm good now."

I waited until we were securely in the car before I told her about walking home and all. And owned up to bending the wrong way on my way out of the 'war meeting' prior. If I'd told her at the stoop, she would've delayed us by, like, half an hour worrying and scolding and all that good stuff. Not that I could blame her. I mean, besides me being her baby, the original effects of my injury hadn't exactly been pretty.

"It's just," she said at the wheel, "Nina, even with the first response alkehestry on your side, it took over a month just to get you stable enough to transfer to Amestris. And another five weeks in-patient at the rehabilitation center in Dublith. I don't want to see you go back to that. You've worked so hard. You've been so careful."

"For three years," I said. I leaned in my seat. "Chill, Mom. I walked a few blocks. It's not like I've been engaging in backflips."

"No, no, no. Nuh-uh, baby. Don't you try to talk this down. You said Maes had to heal you. That doesn't happen unless you did some damage."

I groaned. "I was sore! I get back pain all the flipping time when the weather's like this. Just didn't feel like taking it easy last night, okay?"

Mom frowned at the near-empty roads as she drove. "I swear, Nina. Sometimes I just can't make sense of you."

"Not an uncommon problem."

"Half the time I wonder if I'm overreacting. Half the time I feel like I'm brushing something off. I'm not a mind reader. I need more to go by than just, 'I was sore.' I mean, _sore_ could mean anything. That's what you say after you've been sitting in a meeting for too long. That's what you used to say when you'd forget your bandaids and you'd come to us with burns on your hands. 'Daddy, I need a transmutation. My hands are sore.' And you could've had the first two layers of skin seared off your fingers. Nina—"

I breathed harsh. "We wanted sex, okay?" I scrunched my eyes closed so hard they burned. "My back was too achy to do much, so Maes healed it. The end."

Everything went all quiet, just the sound of the slush flicking under the car's rolling wheels. I chanced a look up at my mother. I winced. She was blank. Too blank. The kind of blank she got when she was making a big huge effort not to crack up laughing. Her nose got red and wrinkled and, inevitably, she let out the first laugh and a billion more followed it.

"Shut up," I said. I sucked my lip and grumbled, "What, you expect me to keep tip-toeing around it when you're getting all choked up and worried about me like that? Jeez. Don't make me sorry for caring."

"I'm sorry, baby," she laughed. "You just…you crack me up. Are you really embarrassed?"

"Mom."

"Even with me?"

"Mom!"

She giggled to herself. What was so damn funny?

I slumped. "What's so damn funny?"

Mom shook her head. "I don't know. You've always been a little choosey with what's okay to talk about and what isn't. Never quite lines up with the mold. I guess I figured, with how _freely_ you choose to show your affections toward Maes outside the home, you'd be less defensive in bringing that kind of thing up around your mother."

"Making out's different," I sulked. "That's a recreational activity. Sex is _our_ thing." I hugged a knee up to my chest. "Just ours, okay?"

Mom was smiling, but not the twitchy kind like the aftermath of laughter. She was smiling soft in that way that made her look colorful. She took one hand off the wheel to pat my knee.

"You really know what you're doing, huh?" she said.

I felt that warmth I'd been feeling off and on since I was a kid. The kind that came on when she got proud of me. Of anyone in the world, above every opinion out there, no one knew relationships like my mom did.

Anytime she caught onto some persisting issue in how me and Maes were carrying out our marriage, she'd actually call us out on it and stay on our case until she could tell we were working on it. We were young and messed up and codependence and pride were ugly things.

I appreciated my mom for making us work on stuff instead of letting it build up and fester, but there was nothing like it when she talked like there was a thing or two she could be learning from us.

"I love you, Nina," she said. I looked down at the seats. She hand her hand over mine. "I don't get to say that enough anymore."

I laced my fingers over hers. "You realize you were the first person to ever say that to me, right? All the other kids in the lab, they didn't even know what love meant. You taught me." I squeezed her hand. "So, every time anyone tells me they love me, you're saying it too."

Mom's smile faded. Not the reaction I'd been going for. Her mouth parted slightly, and for a moment, it felt like she was letting go of my hand. She masked the hesitation by shifting her hold and then tightening again afterward.

"Nina," she said, "besides the other lab subjects, is there anyone else who stood out to you in that place? One of the adults, maybe? I've heard you describe some of them as a lot of guys in white coats."

"I don't think about them." I phrased it as if it was something I'd chosen. I chose it on a daily basis.

Mom nodded. Silent. Hand going slack again.

"Mom?"

She took a left toward HQ. "Anya," she said. "Do you remember that name?"

I blinked. "Um, I think that may've been the name of the school nurse at my old pre-kindergarten." I smiled. "Yes?"

But Mom's smile was thin. "I think you might be right."

"Hey," I said. "You okay? You're being slightly depressed."

She let out a chuckle. "Fine. Just got a lot on my mind. A lot of meetings today." She sighed. "Not to mention my sweet daughter nearly gave me a heart attack this morning using the emergency code when she called me at work."

I shrugged. "I didn't want to get put on hold. Sue me."

She kept smiling. Like a honey-haired angel with those big brown blinkers sparkling wherever she pointed her gaze.

"Sorry," I said.

She gave me a side-glance. "Hm?"

I hunched. "When you worry about me. Like, when you really worry. You talk about the hospital and the rehab, but I know that's not what you see. You see the bits before with me all bloody and stabbed and dead and the paramedic saying it's too late to do anything. And then I change the subject or make it funny because I don't like that that's what you're really thinking. Sorry, Mom. I wish you hadn't gotten there before I'd wised up and revived myself."

Her face crumpled a little for a moment, but she took a deep, steadying breath and she was okay. She pulled up into the lot and parked in a handicapped space. I let her get out the sticker and put it on the dashboard. Handicapped spaces usually gave my drivers more peace of mind than they did me.

She scooted sideways on the seat and put her arms around me, good and tight. "You came back to me, Nina," she said. "Memories can be a pain, but this," she drew away to meet my eyes, "this is what made me a mom. And this is why I'm still a mom, and that's not something to apologize for." She twinkled a smile. "Am I right?"

I shrugged. "I tend to think so."

She put her hand on my head. "Keep thinking it."

We climbed those stupid stone steps to the HQ entrance. Sure, the number of steps looked nice and fancy and all, but seriously. That was a lot of stairs to climb, especially with the weather being all crappy making the surface of everything slick.

Mom held my arm to make super sure I didn't slip. Plus, I figured she liked the excuse to hold me. I wasn't complaining. My mother was a dang comfy person.

"What's going on with all those meetings?" I said as we walked.

"Oh," said Mom. "Just boring grown-up stuff."

"That excuse worked better when I was eight."

She laughed kind of at herself. "Really, Nina. You hate boring grown-up stuff. Hasn't mattered what age you were."

"That is true," I said. "But these recent meeting-thingies have been pretty numerous and on the fly, if I do say so myself. I find that a little interesting. Maybe more than a little."

Mom's grip on my arm tightened, but she kept her eyes forward and blank like she figured I didn't suspect I'd gotten her uncomfortable.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "It'll sort itself out."

"I've deduced that it is concerning foreign relations, no?"

Her grip on my arm squeezed enough to make me wince. Mom shot me a look. "Did Maes tell you that?"

I blinked. "Um, no. I said I deduced. No telling involved. Deduction, my dear mother." I smiled and tapped my noggin. "That means I figured it out by making observations. With my brain. And my logic."

For a moment, I felt very cool.

Mom took a long breath, let it out, and breathed again. "Nina, you can't," she put her hand on the small of my back as we reached the top step, guiding me onto the level ground, "you can't mention that to anyone. Not a soul. Do you understand?"

I nodded. "Tons." I rolled my eyes and grumbled. "Just boring grown-up stuff my ass."

"Nina, I mean it," she said. Her voice had an edge of desperation to it. Not common with her. Well, maybe a little more common when she was around me.

I sucked my lip. "What meetings? I don't know anything about any meetings. What's a meeting? Does it have anything to do with meat? Because my dad gets heartburn with beef and stuff, so he couldn't possibly be involved with such a thing. Yes?"

Mom's mouth quivered into a smile until she just let herself snort. "Okay. That's enough. I got you, Nina."

She put her arm around me as the two of us entered the hall and I leaned into it.

Mom sighed. "Skylar and Avery have really been giving poor Winry a hard time lately, huh?"

"No dip. Terrible twos, am I right?" I laughed. "You lucked out with me on that front."

Mom's expression fell. Apparently I wasn't funny. She reached her hand over and grabbed mine gentle. "I," she said, "wish I hadn't missed so much. Terrible or otherwise."

I played with her thumb. "Yeah, I know. I know that."

She blinked, got this melancholy half-smile as she watched the tiles of the hall. It made me hurt. Some kind of weird hurt. Not physical. Couldn't call it emotional, either. It was an ache with sharp pangs, building and leaving in waves. For a moment, I felt happy.

I bit down on my lip as my eyes got hot with salty wet. I blinked rapidly. Mom was so busy being zoned out that she didn't notice. Didn't even look up. I tilted my head up and breathed until the tears made it back into my face. There we go. There you go, Nina.

"Nina?" Mom said.

I looked at her. She wasn't looking at me. She was looking at our joined hands. I realized with a jump of panic that I was squeezing Mom's hand way too hard. I pulled away and she massaged her knuckles.

"Sorry," I said. "Wasn't thinking about it."

"I assumed not." Mom was looking at me now. "What were you thinking about?"

"I was thinking," I paused, looked at my hands, "that people have the wrong idea about ladies who can't conceive. The stereotype is you long for children and that's what makes you sad. Not true. It's so much worse. So, so much, Mom." I swallowed. I snapped my gaze up to her, her wide, wet eyes. "It's like you're grieving, Mommy. You're grieving over kids you never got to have. You're grieving over a ton of terrible-twos that never happened." I grabbed my flat stomach. "It's like you lost them before you got the chance to know what it was like for them to be there."

"No, Nina. I'm okay, sweetie." She touched my hair. "I'm okay. You're enough. You're perfect."

"It's like Grandma Izumi, how she never knew her baby past pregnancy." I sniffed. "But we don't even get that much."

Mom froze, blood draining from her face in a sudden stark sweep. Man, I couldn't even see her chest breathing. Her hand faltered on my hair. Her fingers hesitated at my face as I watched her lips part and work to form words. She took a breath.

"_We_, sweetie?" she said, finally.

Her fingertips made contact at my cheek just in time to catch tears. Her face crumpled, enough color returning to her skin to make her seem flushed in a sick kind of way. She shook her head. Side to side, disbelief sinking into protest. Shaking her head.

"Nina?" she said shakily. "Honey?"

"More like vinegar," I muttered.

I closed my eyes and waited to feel her thumb wipe the stupid teardrops off my face. I waited for her to wrap me in her arms, the kind of unique hug only achieved by combining maternal affection with military issued trench coats.

Her hand left my face.

"Lieutenant Colonel!" some deep voice shouted from down the hall. "Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye! You're needed with the higher-ups right away!"

I blinked my eyes. Saw my Mom's stone expression, her mouth frowning tight at the officer approaching. Saw that this conversation was over.

"Give us a minute, Sergeant," she said all commanding.

"I apologize, ma'am," he said, "but Fuhrer Mustang made it clear that…"

I watched Mom's eyes widen just a little. "The Fuhrer sent you?"

The guy was standing straight like he was ready to bolt at any moment. "Yes, ma'am."

I dragged my fist across my face, smudged away the tears for myself. The end. Mom turned to me with some kind of apologetic slash pleading look that I'd kind of expected. I gave her a bored, very much unenthusiastic smile.

"Yeah," I said with a couple pats to her arm. "Just boring grown-up stuff."

"Nina," she said all sad. "We'll talk later, okay? Me and you. Promise."

"Sure, Mommy." I waved as I left her, building my voice enough to tack on, "My. Ass."

Whatever Dad needed her for must really have been important, because she didn't chase me after I said the bit about, _my ass_. Made me a tiny bit sorry I'd said it. If she wasn't going to fix it, no point in making her feel like she'd totally ditched me at a terrible time. Which she had.

I didn't go straight to the elevators. I branched off at the girls' room, picked a stall, and took about twenty good minutes getting a freaking grip.

I crossed into our office, one heavy shoe after the other. Braddock and Mikey were arranging empty pots into some kind of organized rows on the main slate table. Olga sat at her desk, apparently putting finishing touches on painting Focker's face onto the last pot. Frankfurter seemed to be out. So was Uncle Ed, but there was a steady chance he was with Maes again. I wondered if Frank was too this time.

At the end of the room, though, right at the window, little George Fuery was shifting his wide-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose through a tense-looking conversation with a guy I recognized from Knox's team. Major Howard Bale. Tall, smug, with light brown hair slicked back like he thought he was suave or something.

I heard George sputtering, "I'm sorry, sir, but I think you should talk to the Colonel about that. You see, I'm one of the lowest ranking officers on the team. I run errands and sort papers."

Bale folded his arms. "I'm getting impatient, Sergeant."

It was moments like these that made me oh so grateful for irritating Howard Bale into transferring research teams. The guy was an expert on military history and strategy. Apparently he'd been immersing himself in the stuff since he was a kid and he knew it like a second language. He knew it enough to get some alchemy behind his belt before joining up so he'd be able to apply for State Alchemist certification and bypass straight to the ranking of major. It was a good thing, too, because the guy seemed to think he knew everything and being a major from the get-go meant there were a lot of people, like George Fuery, who he got to boss around.

Howard had joined the service before me, actually, by seven months; around the time Maes helped me run away from home. Apparently Howard had had some past acquaintance with my parents. He'd been assured that my father would put him in good standing upon entering the military. Of course, that hadn't happened. I'd run away and my dad had been too distracted with what was going on with me to pay attention to the new State Alchemist candidates, even the one he had history with. Howard had been certified, but he'd been forced to build a reputation for himself without help from Fuhrer Dad.

Unfortunately, Howard had learned alchemy so as to obtain a rank, not to actually use for research purposes. He was more interested in leadership. But he'd been recruited for alchemy, so that's the position he'd been put in, and he'd sucked at it right off the bat.

My parents returned to Amestris from Xing, and instead of my dad at last focusing on Major Howard Bale, he focused on certifying his daughter and her boyfriend. Because Howard's research team had been so embarrassingly unproductive, to the point that team members were filing for transfer to another team within days of starting, Dad had seen a perfect opportunity to redeem the situation by handing co-leadership of the team to me and Maes, Howard to work under us.

It hadn't meant to be an insult. Actually, Dad had been really kind to make that move. The higher-ups were set on revoking Howard's certification at the annual presentation that year. But then our team started coming up with revolutionary results in a rush and Maes started getting credit, some of which he deserved, some of which I dumped on him because I didn't want to fool with it. Once Maes got recognized for his results, he started catching eyes for his leadership skills. The higher-ups started getting an idea of how smart and strategic and stuff Maes was, and that's when Maes started getting promoted.

And Howard didn't.

He was me and Uncle Ed's unwilling third counterpart in our expression, _Major's for life_.

"Hey, Howie," I said in flat greeting.

My research team's gazes lifted sharply and I was fairly certain no one had caught me coming in. Even when I was sloppy, I ended up sneaking up on people. I stepped next to George, just a little in front of him, a silent imitation of a shield. What kind of person picks on George Fuery?

"Major Mustang," said Howard with an edged smile. "You're looking well."

I looked back at my team members. "Okay, is there a reason you guys left Georgie to handle this guy on his own?"

George put up his hands in defense. "No, ma'am. Don't worry about it. Major Bale just came for…"

"To mooch off our breakthrough for Knox?" I said. I cocked my hip and glared daggers into Howard's eyes. "Tell the geezer it ain't happening. He wants a sneak peek at our research, he's got to reciprocate, you got me? I want every file you've got on scar-to-flesh regeneration and I want copies of doctor and researchers' lab records; notes included. Until that happens, you aren't getting a scrap out of us, Bale."

The guy couldn't stop the sour look in his eye. Howard rolled his eyes like a total kid. "Don't shoot the messenger, Mustang."

"I'm bad at guns," I said.

"Not surprising," he said.

He left and my team watched in slightly slack-jawed silence. Only slightly, though. They were kind of pretty used to witnessing me being blunt like that by now.

A moment passed. Braddock spoke.

"That," he said, "was a little harsh, don't you think, Major?"

"That was kind," I said, soft. "Bale didn't come because of Knox. That decrepit old doc and I talk like cutthroat competitors as a joke. We don't actually hate each other. Knox wouldn't stoop to tricking info out of subordinates while their superiors weren't around." I sighed. "Get me? Major Bale didn't come here for Knox. He came here to steal credit for a breakthrough we haven't formally announced yet. I railed on Knox to save the guy some face, okay?"

"Damn," said Braddock all awestruck.

Olga gave me a few slow claps of applause. Mikey nodded reverently. I nodded back.

"Look, guys," I said. "Just because you're young or new or subordinate-y, it doesn't make you lesser human beings. You don't have to take that crap from anyone around here. Especially from people who outrank you."

"Could've fooled me," George mumbled.

I looked at him, the way he'd planted his hands in his pockets with his eyes down. The others were looking a little deflated themselves, even Olga. For a second, I thought about tattling on Howard to Knox.

I touched George's shoulder. He looked up and I gave him a little smile.

"Come on, you guys," I said. "Get real. It's team captain and players. Not coach and players. _Captain_ and players. Captains direct the plays and then they carry them out _with_ their team." I looked at my boots. "Coaches yell orders from a bench while their team runs around and sweats. When superiors give you crap, you just got to ask yourselves, is this jerk a captain, or is he a coach? And then you look at yourself and you decide which one you'd rather be. Are you going to boss your team, or are you going to serve them?"

"Well, well," said Frank. I looked up where he stood all amused at the door. "Filling in for the Colonel again, Major?"

"Where were you?" I said.

Frank walked to his desk. "We got a request from the Court Marshall's office for updated files on all our team members. I'm sure it's for the new grant. They're giving us more this year. They want to keep track of us."

"That's creepy," I said. "You turn in anything about me?"

He shook his head. "No need. You're the Fuhrer's daughter, so…"

"Yeah, Amestris keeps pretty solid track of me." I cleared my throat. "Usually."

George caught my eye with this sweet little George-smile. "Thank you, Major. That was a good speech."

"Speech?" I said. "No, bud, thank _you_. Playing dumb and standing firm with Bale like that," I folded my hands. "I was so proud."

His smile got a little more on the sly side, all cute and sneaky. "Yes, ma'am."

"Aw!" I said. "I want to make you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on white bread with the crusts cut off and sliced into triangles!"

Olga winced. "This makes Olga hungry for childhood."

"Bale?" said Frank. "Major Bale was here?"

I sat at my desk and only half-listened as Olga explained the entire incident to Frank in third person. I wondered if Mom was serious about talking later or if she meant, like, later as in a few weeks from now. With how busy Maes had been, made sense that she'd be too busy for me.

Dang it, Nina! So freaking neglected.

"Major Mustang?" said Braddock.

I looked up. He wasn't the only one staring at me. All of them were. When had they stopped talking?

"What?" I said.

"Something on your mind, Major?" said Frank with a wary concern to his tight frown.

I huffed. "Tons." I stood. "So, how about we grow some gifts?"

The team took turns sorting the pots, determining which officer got what scrap of garbage, each having a go at drawing the new array at the bottom of each pot. Even the non-alchemists got to draw it. It was a group effort, no? Who cared if they couldn't activate it? They could still prep the thing. It was as much theirs to prep as it was any member of the team's.

"Hey," I said with an elbow to Olga's bicep. "Hey, Olga, I can't find any pear remains in my bag. What do you say we grow Focker some prunes instead? You know? Because he always acts so freaking constipated?"

Olga snorted. "Prunes do not grow. Plums grow and then are made into prunes. Like grape to raison."

I frowned. "You are just oodles of fun, aren't you?"

"You shouldn't speak badly against General Focker," said Frank firmly. "He takes his job seriously. There's nothing offensive about that. At his position, sincerity is a credential."

"Mind if I ask who's Focker?" said Braddock with his eyes going over a freshly painted matrix at the bottom of General Breda's pot.

"He hates me," I said.

"Because she breaches military etiquette on a regular basis," Frank added. "He started out in the Court Marshall's office. It's not surprising he'd find regular violations from a remorseless officer hate-worthy."

I shrugged. "Point taken."

"Major Mustang has her enemies and allies," said Mikey. I caught him giving Braddock a tired smile. "You'll get used to it."

Braddock set a pot down. He met my eyes. "Don't know if I'm being presumptuous or just asking the obvious, but I'm a little curious about how the military doesn't see all those allies bailing you out as playing favorites."

Even cool, collected Mr. Frank went rigid at that. Braddock had really called it.

I layered my arms contemplatively. "You talking about how my boss is my husband and the Fuhrer's my dad? Oh, no, the military definitely sees that as favoritism. No doubt about that." Braddock looked confused. I laughed, walked around and patted his arm. "The military just likes those two way too much to file cases against them. Cases against me? Yes. Cases against Dad and Maes for bailing me out? Not so much."

I grabbed the pot Braddock had just finished. Looked inside and there was a rotten squirt of cherry tomato ready to be pulsed into a plant. I smiled to myself.

"Makes sense he'd want a tomato vine," I said. "Goes great on a Dagwood. Like, when I was growing up, I used to call this General Breda guy Mr. Sandwich."

"I remember," said Mikey. "Breda liked it from you. My dad got a black eye from repeating it, though."

"Nina Effect," I said.

Braddock looked back and forth from Mikey and me with a knit brow. "Wait," he said. "I didn't know you two went back."

Mikey looked a little red. "Kind of."

The door swung open. I whipped my gaze from the slate table at the sound of the heavy wooden thing slamming against the doorstop. Maes walked through like a shot bullet, in smooth, broad strides. He didn't catch my eye. Didn't catch anyone's. He went straight to his desk and flung open a deep side-drawer. He shuffled papers inside while using his other hand to collect unfinished paperwork from the desktop without looking.

"Hey, Maes?" I said. "You want to see what we came up with while you were stuck at that meeting yesterday?"

He set the papers from the drawer on his desk chair as his other hand reached for a pen and started scribbling signatures onto the paperwork on the desk simultaneously. Took me a moment to realize his eyes were vibrating, speed-reading and completing paperwork on the desk while sorting through files in the drawers and on the chair.

I took a step forward. "Hey, babe? You good? Because I would really love to show you that breakthrough we figured out while you were gone. I think we all would, am I right?"

I got some nods and grunts of agreement from the team members. Frank tacked on, "If it's convenient, Colonel," because he was a total teacher's pet.

Maes opened his mouth enough to mutter. "General."

He didn't talk again. Kept sorting papers. Kept signing paperwork. Eyes darting in their sockets fast enough to make them look like they weren't moving at all. I sucked my lip.

"Excuse me, sir?" said Frank after a moment.

Maes's features were grey and still. "They made me a general."

I sucked my lip harder.

George was the first to smile. "Congratulations on the promotion, sir!"

Maes didn't look up from his papers. Olga was the next to offer some happy congratulating. I sucked my lip harder as my team took turns telling Maes good for him with dumb excitement like they hadn't noticed he wasn't excited.

"Congratulations," said Frank. "You deserve it, Brigadier General Elric."

Maes shook his head. "No," he said. "General Elric. Just General."

"General?" George exclaimed. "Wow. Guess you got someone's attention, sir."

Maes nodded, eyes darting, hands shuffling and signing.

Frank looked the most slack-jawed I'd ever seen the guy, even more than when I'd sucked the life out of the sunflower in front of him. He stepped forward a step like he wasn't thinking about it. "General?"

Maes nodded.

My lip hurt. I stopped sucking. "Hey, you want to see our little trick now?"

"Wait," Braddock whispered at Mikey. "General? Where's that on the pyramid? I thought you had to be in the service pretty long to make it that far."

"Sure, but this is Maes Elric we're talking about," whispered Mikey. "He's going to be Fuhrer someday, I swear. That's probably why they did it. General's as high as it gets before Kingship."

"Maes," I said. "Hey, Maes?"

No answer.

"Give me a sec," I said. "Okay?"

I snapped on some latex gloves and focused my attention on the garbage bag. Had to be something corn related in there. Anything!

"See," I said, "we decided to make gifts for the higher-ups and, with you being one of them now, guess we should make you a pot too." I grasped a bag of corn chips with some large crumbs left at the bottom. "Aha!"

But when I looked around to Maes's desk, he wasn't there. He was up, folders in arms, paperwork on his desk, stacked and ready to be turned in. He was walking to the door, one arm slipping into his coat sleeve, other elbow holding files against his body as he walked.

"Hey!" I said. I held the fistful of crumbs up for him to see. "Earth to Maes. We were going to show you our progress and stuff."

Maes paused in front of the door. "I'm visiting Grandma. Sorry for the short notice. See you in a few days."

I tightened my hand around the crumbs enough to feel them crunch. "Am I supposed to laugh?"

Maes put his hand on the knob and turned it. "I leave Lt. Colonel Charlie in charge. Make sure that paperwork is submitted immediately so Armstrong and Fuery can have their uniforms altered."

George blinked. "My uniform fits just fine, sir."

Maes walked out the door like George hadn't said a thing. I shoved past Braddock and followed Maes out the door. I had to kind of run to get to him since his walking steps were the equivalent of about two and a half paces for my little legs. I got a little in front of him and stopped in his way. My fists balled at my sides, handful of corn chip crumbs still safe in my right hand. Maes halted and stared at me numbly.

"I'm in a hurry," he said.

"Yeah, General," I said. "I caught that, General. Shut up, General. What the hell is going on?"

"It can wait," he said. He had his eyes rested on me loose, not quite all the way focused, like he was making a point to make himself look like he was already down the hall away from me in spirit. "Step aside, Major Gorgeous."

"Like hell!" I said. "Seriously? You're leaving now? After last night? You're really going to leave me to my own freaking devices for three days solid without, like, any explaining besides, 'Going to Granny's, baby'? Because I am way not okay with that!" Because I'm not okay.

His expression wrinkled a little. "Spend some time with Elicia. It's just three days."

"Screw it, Maes!" I got in his face. "You're twenty one years old and you're a freaking General at Central Command! That kind of thing just doesn't happen in three puny years of service. Higher-ups don't make promotions that whopping huge just because they like you. They do it because there are high-ranking people they want you to outrank. So, what just made you so flipping important, huh? Where are you really going?"

His face sank into a frown. "I said I was going to visit Grandma. That's where I'm going, Nina. And I'm going now."

I growled. "Maes!"

He gripped my shoulder. He stepped around me. "If it were for your ears, I would've told you." His hand squeezed my shoulder. He let go. "I'll see you in three days. I love you."

My hands clenched, fingernails digging into my palms, chip crumbs crumbling, arms shaking. I didn't turn. Didn't follow. Didn't even look over my shoulder to watch him go. I gritted my teeth, eyes scrunching closed.

"Fine!" I shouted. "Go see your stupid grandma! I'll throw out all the corn in the house!"

I got back to the room and barged through the door almost half as angry as I was really feeling, which made for a pretty loud barge. George and Olga and Frank were holding paperwork from Maes's desk. Braddock and Mikey were standing back and looking at the other three in what looked like kind of disbelief.

"What's got you two so mystified?" I said.

Mikey pointed at the paperwork more than the people. "Fuery and Armstrong," he said. "They've been promoted."

George was studying a paper in his hand. "That's why the General told us we needed our uniforms altered. New ranks, new marks on our shoulders."

"Promoted?" I said. "What, you two? You're kids! Why the heck would anyone promote you! This is so unfair!"

George looked up kind of wounded and apologetic. "I'm sure you're next in line, Major."

I slammed the chip crumbs on the slate. "Damn it! I don't care about me. You got it wrong, George. You're seventeen years old! You're too young for this as it is! Things get tough and you're supposed to hang back and take care of the paperwork while the rest of us are gone doing the big jobs. Crap! Screw this whole operation! It's bad enough they went for Maes, but now they're going for the babies? Boring grown-up stuff my ass!"

"I'm not a baby," said George. His voice was a little less sweet than usual. I caught the frown creasing his mouth. He looked away. "I didn't join to stay a Private until I was thirty, ma'am. I can do more than just sort papers."

I breathed. What was I supposed to say to that? I sank against the slate table. "Georgie?"

"Yes, Major?"

"You are a baby," I said. "And the worst thing in the world would be for you to find that out."

George tensed, jaw setting, cheeks flushing. I watched his hands clenched in loose fists. First time I could remember ever seeing him angry. Frank set a hand on his shoulder.

"General Elric gave orders," said Frank. "Let's get this paperwork filed."

Frank led the way and Olga and George followed him out. I felt my own jaw setting. What was Maes thinking? George and Olga were teenagers, barely out of high school! Why were they being put in the way of more responsibility than they already had and why now? Because life's a bitch, that's why!

"Not to sound presumptuous," said Braddock, "but that wasn't too sporting, Major."

I blinked at the door. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm sure I don't," said Braddock. "And, by the looks of him, I doubt Fuery did either. He looks up to you, Major. Your approval clearly meant something to that kid. Might want to congratulate him when he gets back."

"Sometimes I have this bad feeling," I said, "that if people told me what was going on, I'd be able to help."

Mikey cleared his throat in the uncomfortable situation. "I'm going to visit the restroom."

I waved a floppy hand. "Have fun."

He reddened and left.

I yanked off the latex gloves and tossed them in the wastebasket. My heart was bumping too hard. Braddock watched me walk to my desk. I kicked off my boots and sat on top of my scattered, unfinished paperwork. Small acts of disrespect felt like I was fighting back.

Braddock fiddled with pots that were already done and didn't need to be fiddled with. "Should I," he paused, "be worried?"

I sucked my lip. "They haven't told me yet, but he's sure acting like it."

"General Elric?"

I nodded.

"Not used to seeing him so straight in the face," said Braddock. "I've only been here a week, though. What do I know?"

"Last time he looked at me like that," I blinked slowly, "was when we were waiting to die and I told him I knew how to save everyone but me."

Braddock's gaze snapped up at me. "Major?"

I hopped off the desk. The tile was cool under my bare feet, too cool. I stepped up to the slate table and took a pot in each hand.

"Let's activate some circles, yes?" I smiled. "Yes."

I took a breath. I had to concentrate to limit my transmutation to that one drawn matrix at the bottom of each pot. Underachieving actually took effort when you were used to joining the Dragon's Pulse rather than just using it as a tool.

The bottoms of the pots flashed blue tinted handheld lightning. My right hand was soon holding a pot bursting with alfalfa sprouts and fresh strawberries in the left. I set them down and moved to the next set. Braddock joined in silently and I held back a little so he'd have a fair shot. I was way quicker and more efficient at all this stuff. I'd built this circle for people it didn't come naturally to.

I backed away from the pots entirely and trailed my hand through the pile of chip crumbs I'd left at the corner of the slate. I really was going to throw out all the corn in the house before he got back. I'd have it made illegal in Amestris, too. And in Xing. Uncle Ling and Lan Fan liked me enough to pull that off for me, I reckoned. I'd offended Creta's delicate balance too many times to call in any favors there, so I'd have to find a way to contaminate their main corn manufacturing facilities.

I lay my palm flat over the crumbs like a protective blanket. No. Outlawing corn in three countries would make Maes way too sad. I'd have to settle for just outlawing it in two countries.

I felt the cold tile under my bare feet. The air was a little cool too. Felt good going down my airways. Felt good flowing out them.

"It feels so darn good, doesn't it?" I said.

"What does?"

I smiled. "Life."

I abandoned the drawn matrixes for a moment and pulsed life through the tattoos on my wrists, through my being. I breathed it in. It felt like white air. Not empty white like the Gate. It was a full white. It glowed. It throbbed with energy. It surrounded. It filled. It overflowed and it flowed back into. It breathed like water from a clear spring. It breathed like clover flowers. It breathed like green pine in the wind. It was soft like green grass, thick and dewy between splayed toes. It smelled sweet, like dark soil after summer rain. It tasted like something you couldn't name, something that was gone before you could name it. All you knew was it was fresh. It was new. No matter how old you got, your life was new with every breath you took. Life was always new. Your life was new until you were dead.

I thought of that place, the green grass, the clear streams, the white dresses and trousers and jumping bare feet. The place where the twenty-nine subjects who had once lived inside me were now. The place they got to spend their afterlives in peace. The place I still visited in my sleep when I was lucky.

Yes, your life was new until you were dead. Death wasn't the end, though. Death meant you got to live inside life instead of it living inside you. That was why they called it life's unending flow.

I could feel it. I could feel it in me. The unending. The clover.

I licked my lip. I just wanted to keep it there, hold that energy in me like a personal charge to carry in my heart, but the urge to let it continue to flow through me was too much to keep it to myself for even a moment. Stunting life forces. Cutting off flows. Redirecting them in unnatural ways. It was a dang blessing I was the only one who could do it. Because, most of the time, it felt like it should never be done. Why touch something so perfect just to rule it?

So perfect.

The one thing that never disagreed with me.

The one thing I never disagreed with.

Made my blood feel ruby red. Soft in my veins. Thoughts soft in my head. Beats warm in my heart. Warm and cool, like breezes in the backyard. Like the wind in your hair without getting your ears too cold. Just cold enough to help you wake up and hear things different. The corn chip vibrated and sprouted under my hand.

I closed my eyes and grinned.

I took a breath and allowed life through the crumbs until I could feel the growth at a gentle pace. Enough to notice under my hand. Enough to fill my hand. Ready for more. But then my heart picked up in a way I wasn't used to. It rushed over me like some pleasant kind of adrenaline. Currents of iridescent electricity shot through my soul's ruby circuit.

Something was inside me. Something that hadn't been there before. Not like this. Like, never. Something overwhelming and fragile and strong. Something light enough to lift me up. Something heavy enough to keep my feet planted.

Life.

My eyes opened.

I gasped hard as the corn chip ripped into a sprouted stalk in a blast of blue light. The stalk grew through my parted fingers. It grew tall, rooted itself into the table where it shouldn't have been able to root. It was as if whatever path I'd created had been widened mid-transmutation. The Dragon's Pulse was rushing through me like water breaking through a dam. Suddenly the stalk was tall, five feet off the table. Much taller and it would threaten to touch the ceiling. Ears sprouted from the full-grown cornstalk in perfect green oval husks. The yellow cobs bowed and hung, ripe and ready, just begging to be picked and boiled and eaten with butter.

It looked…

Appetizing.

I pulled my hand away in a jerk before I could grow a freaking field. Braddock stood with his jaw dropped and eyes wide.

"That was," he said, "impressive."

"I'm a mom," I said.

Braddock looked confused. "Come again?"

I took a shaky breath and gripped my board-flat stomach at the recent familiar feeling that my life force wasn't just mine anymore. My face ripped into a smile that almost hurt. Tears burned down my grinning cheeks. My chest broke into a sob that sounded more or less like a giggle or something.

I sniffed, palm pressed over the full white energy cozy inside my stomach.

_I'm a mommy._

* * *

**Nina's a mommy? Wat? Cliffhanger?! Really, Author?**

**For anyone who may've caught this; yes, Major Howard Bale is, in fact, ten-year-old Howard (the kid with the newspapers and a love for military crap) from 'Babysitting the Boss Guy.' No, this chapter isn't the end of him. I LOVED him in BBG. I can't leave him as a freaking jerk in FL2, now can I?**

REPLIES!

AllINoIsImNotAwsome: Just can't seem to make things a hundred percent seriousness with those two.

author12306: Why, thank you! What else can I say? XD

SilverPedals1402: Maes and Nina are kind of recipes for cliffhangers, am I right?

KTrevo: Thanks for the support! I write my novel and I think of my readers on here and I'm like, "They'd love this."

Cap'nHoozits: Thanks! I'm glad you liked FL. As for Phil, his love for pasta makes me want gluten.

mixmax300: Y'know, I sometimes have this impulse to dedicate a fic just to Phil. And his favorite restaurants around Central.

Harryswoman: Thank you :) Haha, my back's fine. Just...noisy.

naes cornstang: explanation- They did not have a child. Yet. All that time Nina said she wasn't ready to be a mom because she didn't want to face that she couldn't have kids.

DanniMaeAnime92: Aw! Hope this chapter made you feel better :)

Madje Knotts: I want that recipe of yours SO BAD right now! And I want fried rice... Crap. My stomach just growled. I see what I do to you people.

RainFlame: Wow, I was actually in the middle of deciding how involved I wanted Al to be in this plot. Thanks for helping me decide!

'Guest': Ha! Nina's reaction to getting pregnant: Grows a five foot cornstalk in her office on accident.

awesomenaruto: People say, 'Can't wait!' and I feel a little cheeky for cliffies :)

**I 'updated' my FL trailer into an all around practice4morale fanart slideshow. Got spoiler art for this fic, Drastic Measures on dA, and AB maybe a little, so don't click it unless you...enjoy spoilers?**

**CHALLENGE: The protagonist in my novel is a fan of a nineties grunge band. One of the band's trademarks is giving their songs/albums weird titles (Eg. '_She Thinks My Straightjacket's Sexy,' or maybe, 'Mustachioed Traffic Cone'_). Give me some crazy creative material and I'll add your suggestions to my title bank where I regularly pick songs to feature in my manuscript :D **

**I look forward to seeing what you guys come up with!**


	5. News

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. Went through a swing of depression, the lethargic kind this time. Made my head slow. Better than the sad or numb kinds, though, am I right? Anyway, I'll try not to make a habit outta sparse updates from here on. Try :)**

**Long chapter! More important, fun chapter! Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 5: News

I had to ask myself now that I was in the middle of it; what could be more excruciatingly difficult than sitting around catching up with your Mommy-Elric and sister in-law and not mentioning the new freaking life pulsing with raw energy inside you? Few things, my friend. Few things.

I wanted to tell them. Damn, I was chomping at the bit. I wanted to scamper around telling everyone! But Maes had been bright enough to take off to see Grandma Teacher about the kind of exact time said life happened, and I, in all my sore-backed glory, had not seen it as wise to run after him to tell him the news. Of course, I'd run all the way to the train station in the snow and been told Maes's train took off ten minutes ago before I had _not seen it as wise_, which probably wasn't the best idea considering I was officially pregnant in a major way, but come on! He was a dad! And, let's be honest. What was more important? Surprise baby or the fate of Amestris? I thought the answer to that was pretty clear.

Plus, I wanted to tell people! Like my mom. I'd left her in the hall with the notion that Maes and I were as barren as her and Dad. I wanted her to be the second to hear the news, the third person in the world to know. But I had to tell Maes first. No doubt about that. It was the pecking order in these situations. First, Mommy-to-be figures it out. Second, she tells Daddy-to-be and they get all happy and weepy and excited together. Then and only then does Grandma-to-be hear the news.

Maes would hear it first. No question about it.

Unfortunately, there was the matter of I'd kind of more or less dropped some slight hints in Major Braddock's presence after, you know, growing the five foot stalk of corn on the trial table in the office. Not anything too obvious. I mean, I'd covered my tracks pretty good afterward.

"I'm a mommy," I'd said.

He'd been like, "What?"

And I'd been all, "Oh, my freaking God! I'm, like, fertile! Wait. Forget I said that. But holy crap! I'm so preggers I could cry! Oh, jeez! I am crying! Quit looking at me, Braddock. You didn't hear anything. But seriously, how soon does that morning sickness stuff set in, because vomiting is not fun, am I right? Babies vomit a lot. Trust me. I've had the joy of babysitting my brother in-laws. Reflux is not a pretty thing. But it's different than adult puke. It's all sour-milky and adorable. I came home smelling like fresh baby. And then, Skylar was a drooler. Went through, like, ten bibs a day. Disgusting. It was beautiful. And, no, there is no particular reason I'm talking about this. Dear God! I'm a Mom! Whoa, I was totally not serious right then. Fooled you, huh? Yep, I just love my husband's baby brothers; that's all. All cute and brown haired and big-eyed. They don't look like Maes at all, which pretty much means they don't look like Uncle Ed. They definitely don't take after Aunt Winry, though. I've seen pictures of Uncle Ed's mommy. They totally look like her. I wonder what my baby's going to look like. You know, I kind of used to want my kids to look like my biological parents so if I had a boy he could be a leprechaun when he was forty, but I'm kind of liking the idea of mini-Nina and mini-Maes. That would be weird, wouldn't it? Because they'd be siblings and really way not married? But they'd look like us? Ew! No. No mini Naes's. Gross. Shut your mouth, Braddock. I didn't say anything. What baby? There's no baby here. Oh, frack! I'm crying again. Trust me. These are not tears of joy. I can't make babies. We tried. Like, three months. Three frickin' months and nothing. Just talking about babies makes me cry all over the place as of last night when Maes informed me I had a problem with denial and such, which was true. I'm a mature human being. I can admit when I'm wrong. Which is why your assumption that I'm crying happy tears over the fact that I'm knocked up after two years of knocked-upping just not happening is totally dumb and untrue. Jeez, would you quit bugging me about it? Everyone knows that the baby-daddy gets to hear the news first in these stupid situations, Braddock. Not that there is a baby. Or a daddy. Just saying. Oh, shoot! What do I do? Childbirth hurts, doesn't it? I know these things, Braddock. It's awful. I was in the room when Aunt Winry popped the twins out. It was the ugliest thing I have ever seen. Okay, total lie. But still! They call that natural? Like a walrus through a keyhole! Two walruses! That's how Uncle Ed described it. It was so gross. I don't know how she survived. Oh, my God! I'm a mom! Holy dang. Should we open a bottle of champagne? Ha! Fooled you didn't I? You thought I was making a joke about pregnant women not drinking alcohol while pregnant, but it was really just a joke because I get drunk on, like, two sips of beer. So I don't do toasts. Except bread. Ha! Another joke! Screw you, Major. You just don't know when to quit, do you? I'm not on any kind of nest here. You're a nest! So there! Oh, man. I'm going to be fat. I've never been fat before. What's it like? Ha! That was an insulting joke alluding to the fact that you're fat. Were you ever fat, Braddock? Like a chubby child? Adolescent pre growth-spurt awkwardness? Yes? No? No. I don't see you as a fat person. I'm not pregnant. Who's pregnant? Bet you'll be shocked when I tell you I'm pregnant in a few days after I've told Maes, am I right? Don't answer that. You don't know anything. Oh, crap! I should try to catch up with Maes and tell him the news before he shoves off! Maybe he'll stick around! I mean, who cares about the fate of Amestris? I don't. Okay, I do. Shut up! I need to catch up with Maes and tell him something that is not about me being pregnant. At all."

And Braddock had been like, "Um. Okay."

And I'd been like. "Yeah, you better think it's okay!"

Yep, after a cover-up like that, I figured he didn't suspect a thing.

Now I had pint-sized Avery bouncing on my knees because my knees were too small to bounce him on just one like my dad did. Avery liked bouncing like he was riding a horsey. Skylar liked being rocked like he was riding in a boat. Skylar tended to prefer Maes's boat to mine. Maes was like a ship. I was more of a dinghy.

Sophie was letting Skylar play with her facial piercings while she unashamedly described the house parties she'd been throwing under her mother's roof back in Risembool. Aunt Winry was sitting rigidly on the couch next to her, trying very hard to be a cool mom. I was having fun imagining Avery was mini-Naes.

"…So then Brendon asked for my number," Sophie rattled on. "And I was like, what the hell? You live, like, two doors down. Are you asking for my number because you're lazy, or does getting Sophie Elric's digits really hold that much status for the male category in this town? If it's the latter, give me a pen!"

Aunt Winry got delighted. "You were interested this time?"

Sophie was wild and slutty and dressed like a high-class stripper, but, too her mother's despair, she had better things to do than to carry relationships beyond making out in the closet with whatever guy she'd landed at spin the bottle.

Sophie's eyes rolled in an angry way. "Please. I'm too young for that shit." She smothered her baby brother's full cheeks with kisses contaminated with an excessive amount of lip rings and studs. "Right Skylar?"

"Shit!" said Skylar in a giggle.

"Shit!" Avery repeated.

They both directed their eyes to their mother all proud of themselves. Those two had recently started to pay attention to what words got a reaction out of Mommy. They hadn't exactly learned the difference between good reactions and bad yet.

"It's pronounced, shoot," Aunt Winry said with an unfazed smile.

"Shoot!" the boys repeated together.

Aunt Winry's constant correction like that was probably how Maes had turned out with a minimalistic potty mouth. Sophie cursed like her dad. Worse, a lot of the time. My mouth smiled, because with me around, there was a steady chance my kid's first words would be on the explicit side.

I hugged Avery's warm body and nuzzled his hair. So silky soft. Smelled like baby shampoo. Elric babies were so cuddly. Avery had recently learned to give kisses. Before, he'd seemed to think biting was the equivalent of a kiss. Now, you asked him for a kissy and he'd peck your cheek with an audible, "Ma," sound. Nothing like it, feeling those little beaked lips, hearing him narrate his smooch. Almost melancholy how wonderful it was.

"Hey, Avery," I said. "Can Nina have a kissy?"

He stood on my lap and kissed my cheek with his little hand on my face.

"Thank you," I said.

He sat back down and smiled with his baby teeth showing. "You're welcome," he said all squeaky. I kissed his cheek and he said, "Thank you."

I said, "You're welcome, nugget."

"Does it make you want one?" said Sophie with an arched studded brow. "Hint. Hint, hint, hint."

"Yep," I said. I swallowed. "Eventually."

"No pressure," said Aunt Winry. Her hungry smile indicated otherwise.

It was weird, Aunt Winry talking about grandchildren. My Mom made sense bugging me about it every once in a while. She was early fifties with a daughter grown up and married. Mom had baby withdrawal. Grandbabies made sense with her.

Aunt Winry was early forties with two kids just out of the house and two kids practically just out of the womb. She'd gotten her start in the world a little on the early side. That made sense. How she got impatient over getting an early start as a granny was kind of beyond me, though. Did she seriously want her sons to be barely three years older than their niece or nephew?

Well, a little late to stop that from happening.

Part of me sort of knew a big part of her was just still getting over the excitement that Maes was going to live to be a dad.

"Man," said Sophie. "I am so ready to be the cool aunt. Cool big sister? Awesome! Cool Auntie? Dude, that's a new dynamic I could stand to experience. I'd own that position. I mean, not that I'll have any competition. Unless Mom and Dad plan on making another surprise in the near future."

Aunt Winry laughed flat. "Nice one, honey."

Uncle Ed and Aunt Winry liked to do that, pretend they were tired old parents who'd made twins by complete accident and found little humor in it. They liked the joking and the sarcasm. It was a novelty to them. They'd apparently been the too-young couple back when Maes and Sophie were kids, the couple that had gotten pregnant out of wedlock, kids raising kids. Being viewed as the older, wiser brand of parents seemed to bring them a heck of a lot of satisfaction.

But I knew how they were behind the scenes. I remembered how they'd been when they'd figured it out, that they'd fertilized again. It was like the fact that they hadn't done the new-parent thing in eighteen years didn't even cross their minds, like that worry stuff or the, 'Whoa, we totally did not mean for this to happen,' wasn't a thing with them. They'd found out they were having twins and it was like their happiness had _tripled_. Most parents would be worried they'd gone in over their heads with something so freaking unplanned and very much unanticipated.

Watching them through the pregnancy and after the birth, how the Elric's raised their kids in the early stages, told me a thing or two about Maes, why he was the way he was. They saw their babies with this gentle love that never forgot those little lives were miracles. They didn't just see a future for their kids. They saw a purpose hidden within every day. Skylar and Avery had value without even having to try. And, somehow, having parents who saw them through that mindset seemed to make Skylar and Avery have some supernatural desire to live every day with purpose. Even as toddlers, you could see how much joy they got from Mommy's and Daddy's smiles. You could see they knew they were loved.

"It's getting a smidge late in the day," I said. "When do you figure Uncle Ed plans on getting home? I thought he'd take off early with Sophie here and all. Well, then again, meetings."

Avery looked up at me. "Dada?"

Aunt Winry's brow pinched like I'd said something a little on the odd side of the spectrum. "Dada's not coming home today, remember? He and big bro-bro had business. They won't be back until after the weekend."

Okay, was she talking to me, or the twins? "Wait, how come Uncle Ed got to be Maes's travel-buddy? I made it somewhat extremely clear I didn't want to be on my own for three stupid days. Maes never mentioned anything about having room for traveling companions."

Aunt Winry blinked. "Well, sure. Maes was the only one headed for Dublith, last I checked. Maesy didn't explain when he got home from work yesterday? Ed left last night on an evening train. That's why I was so tied up getting Sophie on my own this morning. He should be in Xing with Alphonse sometime in the wee hours of tomorrow."

"Xing?" I said.

"Xing?" said Avery.

"Sking?" said Skylar.

"It's pronounced, Xing, baby," said Aunt Winry with a fond smile Skylar's way.

"Xing, baby!" said Skylar.

"What the hell!" I said. "No, Maes did not explain! He freaking explained nothing! Since when did he make a habit of bluffing my ass off in the middle of a crisis? General? Seriously? He knew this would happen. Why the heck didn't he tell me?"

I couldn't believe it. Our child was the result of fricking stress sex! That was either completely terrible or seriously the best thing ever.

"That is it!" I shouted. "I'm outlawing corn in Creta!"

Corn. Corn? Corn! No. No, no, no. This wasn't happening. The word '_corn'_ left my mouth and circled my thoughts and I swore I salivated. Sweet, crunchy, golden goodness. Oh, this wasn't happening. It was like Maes was somewhere laughing at me. Worse than him lying and bluffing and leaving and letting those jerks turn him into a freaking higher-up; he'd impregnated me with corn cravings!

This was some kind of placebo. I was missing him and worrying about him and maybe just hating him just a little bit perhaps. Cravings didn't happen this early, right? I mean, it hadn't even been a day! Right? Right? Right.

"Nina?" said Sophie. "You okay, girl?"

"No, I am not okay!" I said.

"Not!" said Avery with an angry pout.

"Me and baby-cakes are going to the hospital!" I said. I stood up with Avery hugged in my arms. "To get our corn receptors surgically removed! By technology!"

"Techpolopy!" said Avery.

"Shoot!" said Skylar.

"Um," said Aunt Winry. "Do I need to make tea?"

Sophie cackled. "You and bro must've had one hell of a piss off!"

"What a freaking screw-up!" I said. "I want a divorce! No I don't. I want to tell him I do just to make him cry! No, I really don't. Saddest most sad thing ever. Big gold blinkers all wet and trembly and stuff. What the hell was all that last night about me being a growth? I need to call Uncle Xing. I'm outlawing corn!"

I set Avery down and headed for the kitchen phone. I heard Sophie laughing to her mom, saying, "Jeez. It's like a one-man theater rendition of you and Dad talking automail maintenance." Aunt Winry didn't say anything because she was probably busy worrying if me and Maes were really on good terms. Probably wanted to get to the phone first to call my mom up and have a brief-ish dual mother in-law maternal worry gossip fest. Or maybe it just freaked her out that Maes hadn't told me like she'd assumed he had. Maybe the fact that I was freaking out in a major way had tipped her off that not everything had been explained to_ her_.

I dialed in the relatively pricy long-distance code and dialed for the palace. It took a steady ten minutes of red tape before I got Uncle Ling on the line. Sophie watched with a smirk from the kitchen door as I practically snorted steam into the receiver.

"Hey!" said Ling's chipper voice into my ear. "Nina! Long time no speak. How's it going? You miss Xing yet?"

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously, you need to stop hoping. Your country sucks."

"Oh, come on," he whined. "Accidents happen. One brief encounter with terrorists…"

"Eight weeks, Uncle Moron," I said. "Eight flipping weeks and a sword through the stomach. Not my idea of a good time."

"You know, that sort of thing doesn't tend to happen around here on a regular basis." He chuckled. "Tell you what. I didn't want to have to pull out the big guns this early in the game, but since I'm fond of you, what would you say if I told you I could get you a choice discount on this spring's nine-week tour of the fifty clans?"

"I'll pass."

He used some beckoning tone. "You don't know what you're missing."

"You really can't stand the idea of there being a single human being out there who isn't in love with your country, can you?"

"Well, naturally."

"You're not exactly fond of mine."

"Well, of course not," he said. "You guys have some major problems. I mean, what with previous conspiracies and that nasty civil war a few decades ago. And don't even get me started on a certain past Fuhrer being a secret homunculus."

"Oh, right," I said. "And that's so different than a certain emperor currently infused with a Philosopher's Stone."

"Exactly right," said Ling. "I've never been secretive about it. Not in the slightest."

"Which kind of led up to my terrorist abduction and impalement in the first place, Mister Talkative."

He paused. "I see your point." He sighed. "So, what did you really call to talk about, Nina?"

"I want you to ban corn in Xing."

He laughed. "You had a fight with Maes again, didn't you?"

I sucked my lip. "Will you do it?"

"I'll think about it." He paused. "Maybe I'll consider it a little further if you agree to become my campaign manager for the corn ban? Bring the rest of the Elric clan with you, if it's not too much trouble."

"Nice try, Uncle. You're not some kind of democracy over there. You don't need any kind of campaign for this crap. Jeez. Why don't you just visit us if you're so damn lonely over there?"

"Are you kidding? Amestris is way too complicated to waste a vacation there."

"So," I said, "in other words, you're lazy."

I could hear the smile in his voice. "A little bit, yeah."

"Then quit making all of us feel guilty for not coming to see you enough!"

"Ah! So it's working!"

"Dammit, Ling!"

"How's my old pal Ed doing?" he said. "Still keeping up with those little accidents of his?"

"Which ones?" I said.

Seriously, Sophie had been the only planned pregnancy on the Elric-baby list. Even my little baby Naes had been an accident, come to think of it. I mean, technically Maes and I were carrying on the Elric accidental knock-up tradition here.

I shifted one of my hands under my collar and pressed it to my heart. I felt the baby living in my life, that beautiful fullness. That area centered at my chest seemed to be the best access point for my personal life force. Whether it was out of familiarity from the time I'd spent accessing the other subjects in my life force or whether it really did offer a more direct connection, there was no telling. The tattoos on my wrists were convenient and acted to control the flow of energy through my hands, but if Maes had let me use a matrix over my heart, I'd have been able to explore my baby's life force hands free whenever I wanted. And maybe I could've taught the baby to explore mine.

"You know what Ling?" I said. "You and Lan Prawn aren't like Selim Bradley. You aren't born homunculi. You could be human again. If that happened, you could even have children someday."

I heard Ling make a gulping sound. He didn't answer.

I sucked my lip. "In all seriousness, your country's terrorist problem is over. You kept immortality to become some kind of unwavering stability while your people made the hard adjustment of not assassinating each other for the sake of political stuff. There's peace, Uncle Ling. You've been fifteen for nearly three decades. Your work is kind of done and you've got a lot of loyal subjects who aren't going to let it regress. It's time to grow up, sweet pea. Don't you think?"

There was a patch of silence. Ling took a shaky breath. He let it out in a huff. He spoke.

"Well, if it'll get you to come to Xing, I guess I can consider it."

I pumped a fist in the air. "Hell yeah!"

I heard one of the twins yelling, "Hell yeah!" from the living room. I laughed.

"Can't lie," I said. "I'm going to miss calling you Uncle Homunculus."

"I only said I'd consider it. Eventually," he said. "It's not exactly a small matter, Nina."

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "We all know what's going to go down. You'll brood over it. Weigh the outcomes. Weigh the sacrifices made to get the stupid immortality status in the first place. You'll feel guilty. Visit your old vassal-man's grave all reverent and junk. Feel extra guilty. Then you'll have a heartfelt, dang serious conversation with Miss Lan Fan and she'll give you sage wisdom. You'll ask her what she wants. She'll be all acting like the concept of doing what she wants is a foreign thing for her. Ha! Foreign. Because you guys are foreigners. And then she'll say you're the Emperor and she just wants to be by your side no matter what and it's your decision. Then she'll drop some giant hints she wants you both to be human again and you'll eventually take said hints and before you know it, you'll be calling me up like, get your butt to Xing, Nina. We've made up our minds!"

"You really are a kid, aren't you?" he said flatly.

"Says the kid!"

"Technically, I'm forty two."

"Ew."

"Was that all, Nina?"

I frowned. "Was that all? I kind of just offered to normalize your life force, buddy."

He chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you did."

"Suppose. Unbelievable."

"Thank you, Nina," he said after a while. "I received this body knowing that there would be no turning back, but I'll admit I may have thought twice about it had I seen my life this far down the line."

"No, really?" I smirked. "Okay, one thing before I hang up."

"Yes?"

"In a few years, when you two are older and over the fact that she was pretty much old enough to be your mother for a while there, you sure as hell better ask Lan Fan to be your woman, because if you don't, I will do it on your behalf. Okay. That's all. Bye!"

"Wait, what? Nina!"

I hung up with a climactic slam. I rolled my shoulders back and sighed all satisfied. I'd been dying to say that to those losers for years. Maes just never let me. Said to let things run their course, or some bull philosophy like that.

"Wow," said Sophie from the door. "Bravo to you, girl."

"Everyone's been thinking it," I said.

"I'll drink to that," said Sophie.

"You'll drink to anything."

"And you say it like it's a bad thing."

I wanted to tell her I couldn't drink and I wanted to tell her why that was exactly. I frowned to myself, because I was starting to consider telling Maes the news over the phone and I knew deep down I wanted to tell him in person. I wanted to see his face get exuberant and feel his big tight hug and kiss his smile and tease him when he inevitably tried to feel the baby while my tummy was still flat. I wanted to eat loaves of cornbread with him afterward.

Shut up. No I didn't. Frack.

I wanted to slap him for leaving before I could break the news and get on with telling everyone else. I wanted to throttle him for keeping junk from me. I wanted to distract my brain from the fact that he may just have outright lied to me about stuff and I wanted to hide at the thought that something big enough was going on to make Maes Elric fib to his wife.

I wanted to call Uncle Ling back up and ask him just how much he knew, but there was no need, because that last phone call had said it all. Whatever foreign relations conflict Maes had hinted at last night, Xing obviously hadn't been part of it. Ling had been so none-the-wiser on the phone, it had almost been disgusting.

What got me above anything, though, wasn't that the foreign relations we were dealing with had nothing to do with Xing. It was that Xing hadn't even been informed Amestris was having problems with another country. Maes had been turned from a Colonel to a General in one afternoon. And whatever the promotion had been for, it had been deemed too dangerous to discuss with our country's most trusted ally.

"Hey, Nina," said Sophie. I looked up. She was standing about a foot across from me with her hip cocked and her arms folded in a kind of pissy and serious way. She puffed a sigh. "Can we, like, do dinner out or something? I think Mom's tired. I don't want to make her cook."

For a fleeting moment, my heart sank. Aunt Winry prepared corn like a pro with over twenty years of experience behind her belt. Mostly because she was a pro with over twenty years of corn experience behind her belt.

I frowned. "Yeah, let's ditch this place. I don't have to eat corn when he's not around. That's my choice, okay?"

Sophie blinked. "Right…"

About two seconds after Aunt Winry told us our cab had arrived, Sophie put her finger up and said, "Oh, yeah, give me a sec. I better grab my suitcase. I've decided to stage a sleepover at Nina and Maes's townhouse. It smells less like potty training over there. Bye Mom. Bye boys. Don't miss me too much."

Yeah, that's how it went down.

Sophie spent the cab ride silently painting her toenails red against the back of the driver's headrest. Which was pretty great besides the fact that the chemicals from the polish turned out making the driver light-headed and we swerved on the road a few good times. Sophie just kept polishing, studded lips curled in a satisfied smile.

We walked into my dark townhouse. The moment the lights were flicked on and the door was secured behind us, Sophie was dormant no longer.

She threw her suitcase on the couch. "Alright. I'm so not going out again tonight."

I threaded my coat off my arms. "Me neither. What kind of take-out do you want?"

Sophie slumped into the giant leather armchair that Maes and I usually shared when he felt like doing something boring like reading and when I just felt like eating potato chips on top of him to purposely get crumbs on his lap.

"Get Xingese," Sophie said. "Risembool sucks at cheap Xingese take-out."

"We're having pasta," I said. "Meatballs or pesto?"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Anything with garlic. Lots of garlic."

I dialed it in. I'd been ordering take-out from _The Noodle Shack_ since I was tall enough to reach the phone. I knew that restaurant's number better than my own home address.

"Hey, this is Nina," I said the moment I heard the phone pick up. "I want the usual. At my new address. Not the Fuhrer one. The wife one. Put it on my tab. I don't have cash anywhere convenient right now."

Sophie looked at me all skeptical after I'd hung up. "What's the usual?"

"Oh," I said, sitting on the couch. "I just order everything on the menu. It's easier that way."

"How are you not fat?"

"Early childhood malnutrition does wonders for permanently flummoxing a girl's metabolism."

Sophie arched a brow.

"I'm, like, five feet tall," I said.

She sighed. "I see your point."

I hugged my knees to my chest and looked over at her. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

Sophie looked at me. "Hm?"

"You're kind of acting like something's on your mind just a bit." I shrugged. "Care to share?"

Sophie's mouth was tight like she was not the most comfortable. She looked away. "Okay. Let's cut the crap."

"Consider it cut."

She frowned to herself. "This stays between us, okay?"

"Okay."

"Maes called me at the crack of dawn this morning. Said I needed to come to Central for a few weeks."

The crack of dawn? _This_ morning? I sharpened my gaze. "Why?"

"I'm not supposed to say too much."

"And, yet, here we are."

Sophie folded her arms in this sort of anxious way. "Look, I'd already scheduled visiting this April. I mean, I had plans in Risembool this weekend. Got so pissed off when Maes called to tell me he needed me in Central on the double, I think I flustered him and he ended up telling me more than he meant to."

My hand hovered over my flat stomach. "What did he say? You're talking about _this_ morning?"

"He said it had to be today. I had to get here before he left for Grandma's…"

Wait, he'd called Sophie at dawn. So, he'd known he was going to Dublith before he'd even left for work that morning? He'd acted so natural!

"Why'd he go to Grandma's?" I said.

"Yeah, like he'd tell me," Sophie said with a snort. "And, no, I have no idea why Dad went to my uncle's in Xing, either."

"It's alchemy," I said. "What else, am I right?"

"Maes told me," said Sophie, "that he needed me here today because he didn't feel good about leaving you alone for three days and he didn't trust you to reach out to anyone while he was gone."

I shook my head all scolding. "They say trust is the very foundation upon which strong relationships are built."

Sophie smirked. "He trusts you to act like yourself, sis."

I leaned my head back and groaned. "A babysitter? He sent you here to be my babysitter for three days? I thought things were getting exciting. This is your idea of cutting crap?"

Sophie straightened. "Hey, don't insult me! There's no way I'm responsible enough to be trusted as a babysitter!" She turned her head and grumbled. "Besides, I'm not finished. I said Maes told me more than he meant to, remember? There's more."

"I'm sorry. I love you. Keep talking."

There was a knock at the door. I perked up.

"On second thought," I said, "shut your face. Food's here!"

"That was…" Sophie made a face that said _this is sketchy_, "really quick."

"Oh, totally," I said, hopping up. "They make all their delicious junk, like, five days ahead of time and just stick it in the microwave when people order. They've got the same basic stuff in the freezer section at Central's big-ass grocery store but for half the price."

Sophie looked to the side all bored. "Excellent. I have a sister in-law with even worse taste in meal-plans than big bro. What are the odds?"

I tossed a grin at her over my shoulder. "Tell me that after you've tried their beef stroganoff, darling."

Sophie had been an off-and-on vegetarian until she'd started hanging out more with my dad. Uncle Sparky, she called him. She'd seen his plate at my wedding reception, all stacked with corned beef and steak and red sausages from the buffet, stuff he wasn't supposed to eat because of cholesterol and heartburn and midlife crisis; stuff he'd totally made off with that day when my mom hadn't been looking. And Sophie had realized that, if he'd been allowed, my dad would've lived off of red meat alone. So, she became his steak buddy out of sheer respect for the man's resolve.

Sophie was a fairly normal person compared to her big brother, but the category of things that left her impressed screamed _Maes Effect_.

After saying a heartfelt goodbye with my deliveryman, I set the steaming bag of goodness on the coffee table and we dug in with the included plastic forks. Well, I dug in. Sophie spent a minute questioning what was edible, then spent the better part of fifteen minutes devouring the daylights out of the stroganoff along with three meatballs after her first nibble.

"Oh my God!" she said. She waved a hand at her mouth like she was holding back tears. "How is this so good?"

"Probably artificial flavoring," I said. I stuffed a corn fritter into my mouth, almost big enough to pop my jaw from having to open so wide. "Gift to mankind, am I right?"

Sophie paused in her meal and I wondered if me talking with my mouth full enough to make me gag was really repulsive or something. Her mouth hung open a little. She pointed at me with her disposable fork.

"Is that a," she said, "corn fritter?"

I nodded as I chewed. I licked my finger. "They added it to the menu after Maes came into the picture. I hear they got pretty popular."

"Yeah, but you just ate one."

"You want me to save them for Maes? They'll be gross. Plus, he might enjoy them."

Sophie folded her arms. "I figured you'd have dumped them down the disposal by now. You hate corn."

"I don't hate corn," I said. "I'm just sick of it. I hate how he's always trying to get me to eat it with him and gets all personally hurt when I say I'm sick of the stuff."

"I hear you on that," Sophie said with a chuckle. Her expression fell. "But seriously? You ate it."

"Corn fritters are good," I said. Popped another in my mouth and sighed. "Really good."

"Okay, what's going on?" she said. "I'd say it's because you miss him, but all I've ever seen you do with corn when you're missing my brother is burn it in the backyard and dance around its ashes."

"That was one time!" I said. "A neighbor saw the smoke and called the fire department on me. Now I do it in _Selim's_ backyard, thank you very much."

Sophie arched a brow. Just waiting. My hand found its way to my stomach. Had corn really turned into that big of a giveaway for me?

Yeah. Okay. I could see how that had worked out.

"And another thing," said Sophie. "Earlier today, you really seemed to have a handle on outlawing corn in Xing, but then you backed off. What's up with that? Jeez, Nina! What's wrong with you? Are you sick or something? You've been acting," Sophie shuddered, "soft."

"You sound like General Ice Bitch."

Sophie smiled distantly. "That woman is a god. Dad says she makes grown men cry."

"You do too."

"I mean without violence or turning down dates." Sophie laughed a little evil. "She brings men to tears with the sheer force of her glare. I'd die for that woman." Sophie dropped the evil expression and smirked. "No, I wouldn't. I'd save my ass and visit her grave."

My nose wrinkled. "You two would get along splendidly."

Sophie sighed. "What were we talking about?"

I tapped my lip and mumbled, "I wonder what would happen if I put a boiled corn cob on a stick in the freezer and dipped it in chocolate."

"Corn?"

"Nothing."

"That's right. We were talking about corn fritters." Sophie folded her legs all casual. "Forget the corn. We were talking about Maes a second ago. Let's talk about that."

My felt my shoulders tighten. That. I took a breath. Her eyes slowly trailed down until she was looking at her knees. She looked kind of vulnerable, which was different for her.

"See, when I flipped out over him calling me so early and, you know, the short notice thing," she extended her foot in front of her and inspected her red toenails like a nervous compulsion, "well, he said something about how it wasn't all that bad seeing as the Central Court Marshall's Office would probably have called me into Central by this afternoon anyway and it was better coming from him. And I was thinking, now, why the hell would the military be making a call to a soldier's little sister to arrange for her to stay with her sister in-law for a few days? Maes sounded tired on the line. I'd thought maybe he'd misspoken, so I casually voiced his 'mistake' about the Court Marshall thing. But he actually took it seriously! Got really flustered. You know how he gets."

"Talks about what he had for breakfast and his dreams for the future? Yeah. I know how he gets." I grabbed another corn fritter and munched like a hamster. My mind raced.

"He ended up spilling about having _business_ with Grandma," said Sophie. "Before he'd just said he was going on a _visit_. I thought his choice of words was weird, so I asked him about it and he said, 'business,' was a figure of speech. Okay, Maes is good at lying. He's got to be way off his game for me to be able to tell that easily that he's trying to throw me off of something touchy."

I thought back to our tearful, God-awful night that had led up to that morning phone call with Sophie. It would've put any person off his game.

"Then I get to Central," said Sophie, "and Mom tells me Dad's on the Desert Rail? Before lunch, the Court Marshall's office called me at my parents' phone number! How the hell did they know I was even there? I know, right? Here I thought I was just visiting my big sister for a few days." Her tone was sarcastic. "Jeez. Can you be any more obvious? Next thing I know, they're asking all these questions about my birth date and social security number. I was like, hell no. This is a scam, right? You're not really the Court Marshall's. So I hung up. But, what do you know? They called back and, sure enough, they had your mom on the line. I'd recognize that smooth tone anywhere. Turns out they needed info to update my passport. Like, huh? And, get this. Before the call ended, I swear I overheard someone say something about _General_ Elric's younger sister being on the line. _General_."

I told myself to stop panicking. I told myself in my head until my mouth started shaping the words without my voice. 'Stop panicking.'

My breath quickened and my skin prickled with unwarranted sweat. All this adrenaline couldn't be good for the baby. I slid my hand under my collar and felt for Naes's force. I closed my eyes and breathed easy.

"Um," said Sophie, "Nina?"

I opened my eyes and said softly, "You said they needed your passport information up to date?"

"Uh, yeah." Her brow furrowed. "You have any idea what that means?"

I thought back to earlier, how Frank had mentioned the Court Marshall's Office had been asking for updates on the team's personal info. Info that could've gone for passports. I exhaled through my nose.

"It means foreign relations." My eyes drifted to the door. "If I had to take a guess, I'd say it has to do with Uncle Ed's life force, in your case."

Sophie's hands tightened kind of defensive. She looked displeased. "What do they want with my dad's life force? That's over."

"I doubt it's about him," I said. "I'm talking about your involvement more than anything. When Maes was about to die that time, it was up to you to perform the transmutation that transferred a portion of Uncle Ed's life force into Maes's circuit. Even though it wasn't a complete success, what with you only being able to transfer that portion Uncle Ed had separated himself after getting skewered in Baschool, you still performed the closest thing really known to dividing a life force between multiple circuits."

Sophie's face turned red in an angry way. "How'd the military know about that? Uncle Wet Match promised Dad he wouldn't tell!"

"Then it was Maes," I said. I took a shaky breath. "It was him. He told."

Sophie looked at me all unstable and a little on the scared side. Bringing up that day when she'd unknowingly turned her dad into an invalid never ceased to hurt her.

"I don't," she said, "understand."

"I'm sure Maes talked it over with your dad first," I said. "Got permission. I mean, the fact that Uncle Ed's headed to Xing right now confirms they're in tandem. But, no. Maes was the strategist in this one. Maes is the one who got promoted to General and hid things from his wife when he got home. This is about life forces. It has to be." I closed my eyes. A shiver went up my spine. "He's protecting me."

I was beginning to understand. Maes was gathering up every brain on the map that knew a fraction of what I did. He was trying to eliminate the place only I could fill. He was making me unnecessary.

So, why had he shot me down last night when I'd mentioned retiring?

"So," said Sophie. "The '_General_ Elric' thing. How?"

I shook my head. "He's too young. He's too new. This kind of promotion has to break some codes. Besides that, it seems a little over the top, you know? Like, they didn't need to put him all the way at the top of the food chain to make him a higher-up. Obviously status isn't all they were after."

"Wow," said Sophie. "You really know this stuff."

I shrugged. "Not like I memorized the manual or whatever. Just the world I was raised in."

"You think your dad might be stepping down?" said Sophie suddenly. "Like, I hear a lot of bullshit talk about Maes being Fuhrer someday. Maybe they wanted him to be next in line!"

I rolled my eyes. "Just no."

Sophie sulked. "Then what? Got anything better?"

"Look, what I said about foreign relations," I said. My eyes darted like a reflex to make sure no one was listening in. I took a purposeful breath. "Earlier today, when I called Uncle Ling, getting corn outlawed wasn't my main goal, just an impulse."

"Yeah?"

"Otherwise, I totally would've followed through."

"That's my girl!"

"Maes gave me hints last night," I said. "He hinted around about him being busy at meetings because Amestris was having issues with a foreign country or two. Or three. Whatever. I talked to Ling mostly to get an idea of how much he'd been included in those issues."

"Whoa, seriously?" said Sophie. "You were using interrogation tactics on Uncle Ling? Did it work?"

"Yeah. Xing's not involved yet. At all. Uncle Ling doesn't even know your dad's on his way to the Chang District."

"Oo." Sophie winced. "He hates being left out of the loop."

"You're telling me. Pansy. What a woman." I sucked my lip. "Actually, I'm not too happy about it either this time. Xing's our friendliest ally. I'd say keeping them in the dark about foreign relations may be a good sign if it means the issue is too trivial to bother them with, but the issue's not trivial. That much is getting painfully obvious. That means, whatever the higher-ups are having meetings about, it's too sensitive to let it leave the room."

"Jeez."

"Worst part is," I said, "I'm thinking Maes didn't drop those hints about foreign relations because he wanted me to be included. I think he was trying to distract me. He just knew I wouldn't fall for a distraction if it didn't hold any real weight, so he fed me classified stuff on diplomatic problems to keep me off the 'alchemy' path."

"You sound paranoid."

"But it's probably definitely true."

"Oh, I believe you," she said. "I'm just saying. That's how you sound."

"That's why they turned him into a General," I said. "The problem Amestris is having with this 'foreign country' completely involves alchemy. Duh. The higher-ups were probably trying to figure out what to do and Maes sensed they were going to try to use me for something he didn't want me being used for. I mean, I'm kind of a genius at this stuff."

"Modest as ever." She raised her brow. "What does you being an off-limits genius have to do with Maes's promotion?"

"Code 5535," I said. "That's what."

"Code?"

"Ugh," I said, remembering. "I'd practically memorized that excerpt by the time Maes and I got our start in the military. Red tape stuff, you know? Some code that says research teams involving alchemy of any kind have to keep all their super-mega classified work reserved for the military. Amestrian military. That means you don't divulge stuff to outsiders, also known as foreigners. You get me?"

"Can we skip to the 'General' part?" said Sophie. "I'm getting bored."

I sighed all aggravated. "Background information, Sophie! I was about to say. Code 5535 bans orange and red class military research from being disclosed to other countries. Code 9511, however, amends that exceptions can be made during times of trouble if special permission is given either by the Fuhrer or an approved General."

"And?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I said. "The passports? The promotions? The lies? We're not just having trouble with another country. We're involved. Some country is screwing around with alchemy touchy enough to merit bringing my expertise into the equation and Maes volunteered to smooth it over so I'd get passed up. That explains why George and Olga were the only others besides Maes who got promoted today. It wasn't merit. To even be allowed near orange-level classified material, you have to be a rank of Sergeant or higher. Maes is rounding up a team that can stand without me and the officials promoted him so he could lead it." I hugged my tummy. "Whatever's going on, they've pretty much unabashedly handed the reigns over to him. No pressure, right?"

"Quit feeling guilty," said Sophie. She nudged me with her foot. "You think everything revolves around you or something. Come on, Nina. You're so stuck up."

I ignored her jokes. "Can't believe he'd involve you just to get me out of the spotlight. I mean, I'm his wife, but you're his Sophie. And George and Olga? They're kids. I don't want them getting involved with something dangerous for my sake. It's not right."

"Maybe you're wrong about it all," said Sophie. "I mean, what you said made perfect sense as you were saying it, but that was a lot of deducing there, Nina. Not much in the ways of hard evidence. Things could very well be fine."

I shifted my hand under my collar, felt my shared life force. I breathed, eyes shutting slow. This was getting old. I wanted to be able to feel me and my baby's connected souls just by thinking about it, the way I'd gotten used to with my friends when they'd shared my life force.

I opened my eyes. "Do you really believe that, Sophie? You really think I'm wrong about all this?"

Sophie paused. I caught one of her hands trembling for a moment like anxiety had taken over that small part of her for an instant.

"I think," she said, "we should wait it out." She clasped her hands loosely. Her shoulders hunched. "I think those jerks are crazy if they think I'm going to just take a break from life to clean up their political messes. Damn it! Maes and Dad have already faced enough danger for ten lifetimes. Why can't they just stay out of trouble and let someone else, 'take the reigns,' for once?"

"Because," I said. "They're pansies."

Sophie nodded with a bitter smile. "Yeah, that's got to be it." She sighed all dramatic and took a look at her watch. "Hm. Not even ten yet. Hey, you want any piercings? I brought my stuff just in case."

Sophie wasn't kidding. I knew. She actually did body piercings and tattoos for a 'living.' That's what she liked to say. Actually, her _parents_ paid for her livelihood. Sophie did body art for her _'wild youth'_ budget. Also known as her beer and bail-money-for-friends budget.

"You'd look hot with a stud in your nose," said Sophie. Not the first time she'd said it, either.

"Allergy season would be an ugly thing," I said with a shudder. Runny noses and nostril piercings didn't sound like the best combo ever.

"Belly button?" she said. She lifted her tight top to show off the sparkly naval piercing she'd gotten the summer before we'd met. She wagged her eyebrows. "You know you want one."

I had this sudden image of a big pregnant belly with a glitzy stud at the end. I winced. Bad image. Bad, bad image. "I think I'll pass."

"I could do your hips," she said. "Or your back! Dude, I got this one girl at the parlor last year. Asked for rings along her spine. She wanted to lace ribbons through it. That corset look, you know? I get requests for it all the time now. It's a real hit. You'd look great with it!"

"Yeah," I said. "Right there along all my lovely scars. Sounds gorgeous."

"Hey," said Sophie all reproachful. "You do realize Maes isn't particularly special for liking scars, right? Guys are into that rough look. Makes you exotic."

"I got me a husband," I said. "I don't need any weird back-rings. I got my ears pierced when I was twelve. That's enough for me."

Sophie fingered one of her lip studs contemplatively. "So, you want me to pierce them again? Double piercings are hardly daring."

"You're crazy."

Sophie pouted. "I can't help it. I see people and I just want to decorate them."

I turned over my wrists and got a peek at the transmutation circles tattooed into the skin. Just a little pinker than my own tone. Next to all the other discolored patches of scar tissue on my body, the fact that I had alchemy on my wrists was almost as discreet as the fact that I had alchemy on my fingertips and palms. Sophie had done the tattoos for me. Expert work. I closed my hands.

"Sophie?" I said.

She grinned. "You changed your mind about the nose ring?"

I made a face. "Not even. Just wondering if you brought the ink."

Sophie's grin fell. She blinked. "What, like, for tatts?"

I nodded.

She was smiling again. "Absolutely."

I pulled open the top of my shirt to expose that perfect place, that place my hand wandered when I needed to feel my soul. I pointed to the space over my heart and tapped.

"I want one right here," I said. "Can you do it like you did the ones on my wrists? All subtle and stuff?"

Sophie got this glint of gold in her blue eyes. "Don't insult me with stupid questions. Give me a minute to set up."

"No problem." I pressed my palm to my chest and smiled. "Give me a minute to figure out the circle for the job."

* * *

**But, Nina, that sounds ouch!**

**For those interested, I just posted an original piece on dA. Link's on my profile, 'Straightjacket Mama.' It's the short story that just got published in the college journal and won first place. Enjoy my legit material :D**

Replies! (But they're short out of self-preservation on my part)

Harryswoman: Maes is a sneaky guy o.O

Madje Knotts: THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE RECIPE!

Evarria: Of course! Getting to interact with my audience is one my favorite things about this site :D

mixmax300: Prego...is a spaghetti sauce brand!

awesomenaruto: Yeah, I'm not into long waits after cliffy's either *this has been a hypocritical statement on occasion*

KTrevo: I totally added your suggestion to my song bank.

author12036: Thanks! I like feels!

SilverPedals1402: And Maes is going to be a daddy!

naes cornstang: She's very aware she's a mom too, lol XD

DanniMaeAnime92: I do too, haha!

RainFlame: Your suggestions are in the bank! 'All Rise for Meatloaf' was, like, surreal for a sec. A year ago my writing club took an excerpt from an old poem I wrote and they named our group, 'Meatloaf Divas.'

* * *

**CHALLENGE! AUTHOR IS TAKING REQUESTS! Okay, so I finally put up that fic I've been meaning to start, 'Roybecca.' Basically where I'm dumping writer's block exercises and stuff like that. Since it's so relaxed of a set up, I'll take suggestions to keep in mind for later installments. Kind of like that 'King Mustang's Plight' chapter in FL, but not necessarily in crack-fic form unless you want that. Anyway, let me know if you got something in mind that could fit into a one-shot format, okay?**


	6. Personal

**A/N: Ha! How's that for a prompt(er) update? Thanks for the sparkly reviews! I'm thinking you guys are going to enjoy this next turn in the plot...**

**And thanks for the suggestions for Roybecca, guys. I love them! They will be utilized :D**

* * *

Chapter 6: Personal

I pulled at the front of my uniform and groaned. "It itches!"

Sophie folded her arms over her midriff jacket. "Don't complain. It's not like you didn't know this was coming."

I'd brought her to work with me. It was a Saturday, but soldiers didn't get days off the same ways normal jobs did it. You got leave when the workplace could spare you, and with Ed and Maes currently on leave, I apparently couldn't be spared.

Sophie and I had just gotten in, extremely on the late side what with Sophie sleeping in until nine and then taking an hour and a half to get ready. I had to wonder what kind of decent human being decides to sport her naval piercing in twenty-degree weather.

"It itches so bad," I whined. I tugged the front of my shirt away from the bandaged tattoo she'd inked into my chest. "Oh, man. I want to scratch it."

"Shut up," Sophie chuckled. "You ruin that ink and I swear I'll charge you full price for a touch-up. You think it itches now? Try getting it infected. You'll eat your words."

A couple jerk captains at the water fountains whistled as we walked by. I huffed.

"I'm going to assume you losers are hitting on midriff over here," I said with a thumb to my sister in-law.

"You should give yourself some credit, Major," said one of the guys.

"I'm married," I said, putting up my ring. "Married!"

The other nodded at Sophie and said, "What's up?"

Sophie shot them a, 'Seriously?' expression. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the hall with me.

"We're late," I said.

Sophie frowned as we left. "You could so file for harassment."

"Maes is funny when he gets jealous and stuff," I said. "He's not here today, so it's not as fun."

Sophie arched a brow. "You like getting hit on?"

"I like Maes getting ridiculous," I said. "Last time he confronted those guys, he said they didn't want to see his, and I quote, 'Fluorine side.' That's right. He classifies his levels of 'protective and pissed' by the reactiveness of elements from the periodic table."

Sophie groaned. "Seriously? No! He's turning into my dad."

I shrugged a shoulder. "Which is all he's really wanted to be since the day I met him, you know?"

"One Edward Elric is plenty, in my opinion."

I smiled to myself. "I think it's sweet."

Sophie stopped in the hall and looked at me all narrowed-eyed and skeptical. "Did you just call Maes turning into my dad, _sweet_?"

I bit my lip. "Is that wrong?"

Sophie furrowed her brow. "For you? Yes. What's going on? Are you sick? Normal girls that hang at the mall call their guys _sweet_. You call Maes _the best weirdo ever_ or a _dang sexy corn perve._ Or, if you're going to go for the cliché, you at least preface it with _pretty much _or some other unnecessary set of gibberish-slash-profanity. And what's with the compliments, huh? I thought you were pissed at him for lying to you and stuff? What's with this goo-goo talk? Seriously, Nina. You've been acting really off since I got here. Is something going on?"

Sophie was one of those people you never would've guessed would be the super perceptive type, so when she saw through you, it was a little bit terrifying and wonderful. What was hilarious was that she didn't seem to have a clue how much she picked up on, how dang subtle it all was to the average eye. She was a lot like Maes that way. Unaware of how weird she was.

"I…" My hand touched over my tummy. I wasn't allowed to touch my chest anymore. Hadn't factored in last night that a chest tattoo meant I didn't get to access my life force from that spot for the next two weeks while the dumb thing healed. I swallowed. "Mood swing?"

"Mood swing?" said Sophie. "Okay, that's believable coming from you. Can't deny it. Jeez. You had me worried for a second, girl."

Oh, damn! Did mood swings happen this early in the game? I mean, hormonal junk got triggered by conception, sure, but Aunt Winry hadn't gone through the big effects of pregnancy until she was, like, a month in! Well, every baby was different.

Aunt Winry had more or less described her pregnancy with Maes as a living hell from the start, while her pregnancy with Sophie had been more along the lines of, 'This baby is a big fat kicking machine and I want it out already!'

The twins were more like, been there, done that, but I have never been this hungry in my life! Is this natural? Maes, take that corn into another room. The smell's making Mommy nauseas. Roy, do you want any more bacon? Whoops! Guess I stole the last of it before you could answer.

Oh, crap! What if I started getting nauseated at the smell of corn? That would be majorly inconvenient as it was quickly turning into the pinnacle of deliciousness in my mind!

No, it wasn't. Shut up!

"Okay, hold it," said Sophie. "When you go silent and make weird faces like that, I start getting worried again. You sure nothing's going on? You know. Besides Maes."

I nodded. "My chest itches is all."

"You're such a baby," said Sophie.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall to the team's room. "Yeah, yeah. Shut up. I'm tactile. Come on. We're late."

"Not my fault."

"It's totally your fault."

"It is."

I stopped outside the team's closed door and grabbed both of Sophie's shoulders. I looked up at her very much earnestly and said super serious and firm, "This team is a bunch of awkward sweeties. If you break a single heart, I will not be pleased."

She stuck out her lip. "It's not like I do it on purpose."

"You don't really make much of an effort not to, either."

She rolled her eyes to the side. "This is true."

"Deal?"

She fluttered her mascara-fied lashes at me very dramatic. "Deal, sweet stuff."

I took my hands off of her shoulders and bowed. "Very well. You may enter."

We entered.

Frank looked up from a stack of paperwork and said, "You decided to show up, Major." Then he did a double take when Sophie trailed in behind me. He blinked a couple times with way less peeved eyes. "And you brought a guest."

Sophie strode across the room to stand with me at my desk. She moved her gaze fiercely over the team. She didn't try to hide the fact that she was sizing them up. No one was at the slate table this time. They were at their desks doing what seemed to be boring paperwork, the paperwork that I tended to distract them from when I was around.

Every one of them of them was looking up at Sophie similar to how Frank had reacted at first glance. I couldn't see Olga's eyes past her bangs, but by the way her jaw had dropped, I assumed her gaze was bug-eyed for sure. Braddock had done the noble thing and turned his eyes back to his deskwork, clearing his throat kind of uncomfortable. George had turned red and backed up in his seat sort of terrified like he'd never seen a girl do a school dress-code violation before.

Mikey was the best, though. He didn't look all shocked or uneasy in the slightest. He, of all people, was sitting back with his arms folded and a smirk curling the corner of his mouth. I remembered that look. That was how he'd looked as a teenager most of the time. Made sense he'd pull that smile out for Sophie.

"Well, I couldn't very well leave her alone in my house," I said as I shrugged my coat off my shoulders. I threw it over my chair and gestured to Sophie. "Guys, this is my sister in-law, Sophie. She's here from Risembool for a few days. She's pretty much the best and will probably do everything in her power to make our lives harder than they have to be during her stay. Be welcoming, okay?"

I got some nods and _yes sir's_. I plunked in my seat and started doodling on my paperwork while Sophie got people's names and all.

"Okay," said Sophie. "So, you're Frank Charlie, right? I think I've met you before. You're the one who's worked with my brother from the beginning."

"That's right, ma'am," said Frank. "Good to see you're doing well."

He stood long enough to shake her hand then sat back down and got to work again. Now that he'd gotten over the initial shock of her appearance, he seemed to easily slip back into his usual apathetic professionalism.

"Yeah, mutual," said Sophie. "Bro says you're a keeper. I appreciate you keeping him in line."

Frank looked up at the mention of Maes. "Not at all. General Elric has been an inspiration as a commanding officer, ma'am."

Sophie laughed. "Yep, Nina said you had a bro-crush going on."

I waved my hand in agreement. "Called it."

Frank looked a little mortified and maybe squeamish. Sophie pointed to Olga.

"Okay, I met you at Maes and Nina's wedding," she said. "Olga, right? I remember, because you had an eating contest with Sig after they cut the cake. I hadn't realized you joined Maes's team. When did this happen?"

"Late summer." Olga smiled all satisfied. "Olga won this contest you speak of."

"Which was glorious," said Sophie. "If I'd have been able to eat that much when I was sixteen, I'd be a whale right now."

"Olga will share work-out plan with Sophie if ever desired. Turn calorie into muscle."

Sophie raised her studded eyebrows. "Intense." She looked at Georgie, who had his eyes down like he was hiding. Sophie smiled like she'd just realized how intensely cute he was. "Hey, you look kind of like my dad's friend, Kain Fuery. Are you related?"

George looked up and smiled shyly. "Um, yeah. I'm his son, actually. Sergeant George Fuery. Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

Sophie crinkled her brow as she shook his hand. "Sergeant? How old are you, George?"

"Uh," George paused to steal a quick glance at me. "I'm seventeen, ma'am."

"Whoa," said Sophie. "You should still be in high school last I checked. You in some special program or something? Sergeant's pretty up there for such a young guy, right? Well, my dad was a major when he was twelve, but that was special."

George looked wounded for a moment, the way he had when I'd gotten angry about his promotion. He swerved the subject a little, "I graduated early. Test scores."

Sophie smiled and shrugged. "Hey, that's all good. My big brother's education doesn't extend much past elementary school, and he's a twenty-one year old General. More power to you, Sergeant Fuery."

He looked less hurt and gave her a smile. "Thanks."

Mikey was up next. He looked like he was putting his hand up for a shake, but Sophie skipped right over him and left him hanging like he wasn't there. Instead, she walked right up to Braddock's desk and extended her hand to him.

"Sophie Elric," she said. "Sorry, I don't know you from anywhere. Mind cluing me in?"

He shook her hand firmly and kept his eyes on her eyes and nowhere else on her. Good loyal husband.

"Major Thomas Braddock," he said. "Been here just a little more than a week, actually. Makes sense you wouldn't know me. Just the new guy."

"Oh?" said Sophie.

"And a freaking State Alchemist," I added from where I sat. "He's being modest. The guy's certified. He's the one who made the big breakthrough the other day."

Sophie's eyes widened. "Wait, the breakthrough you mentioned while we were brushing our teeth? Or are you talking about that lame one Maes showed at the presentation?"

"The former," I said.

"Dang!" said Sophie. "Nina's been working with my dad on that theory for months! You cracked it, Major?"

Braddock chuckled bashful and sweet. "I just activated a circle that had been months in the making. Nothing special."

"He made the final touches," I said. "_Then_ he activated it. Everything special."

"Hm," said Sophie with a smile. "Well, nice to meet you all."

She got nods and smiles, except from Mikey. He did look a little uncomfortable now. More like how he got with me, except not completely scared off. He stood and put his hand out to her as she passed.

"You missed me," he said with a nice friendly look her way.

She stopped in front of his desk and turned to face him. She eyed his extended hand, frowned pretty much disgusted, and folded her arms tight. Ouch.

"Did I do something wrong, ma'am?" he said with a nervous laugh.

"Oh, not at all," said Sophie. "Unless you happen to be Mikey Havoc?"

He blinked, shot a look my way. I was usually pretty much the only one that called him _Mikey_.

"It's _Michael_, actually," he said. He took the hint and put his hands in his pockets.

"Whatever," said Sophie. "You're the jerk-face that shunned my sister in-law in school. Do you deny it?"

I hunched. Crap. "Sophie, just no."

Mikey pinked. "I didn't…"

She cocked her hip. "Aunt Riza says you freaked out after a failed play date when you were four and spread rumors about Nina being crazy straight until she graduated."

Mikey got redder. He shook his head. "That's not true."

"Aunt Riza doesn't stretch the truth," said Sophie. "Jeez. How'd a douchebag like you make second lieutenant? Couldn't have been based on merit."

"No," Mikey sputtered. "No, I...I mean…"

Even Frank was looking up from his work now. Everyone just spectating. Watching Sophie call Mikey out on some new Nina-quirk. I felt my cheeks get hot and my tattoo was itching to hell. Uncomfortable inside and out.

Sophie scowled. She leaned way into Mikey's personal space, nearly nose to nose. "Don't give me that act. Who the hell picks on an abuse victim over social skills?"

Mikey gulped. "I…"

I stood. "Shut up, okay? It's not his fault!" I huffed a breath and looked away. "He was, like, four years old. We fell asleep at naptime and I woke him up screaming all over the place from some stupid dream. Of course he was freaked out. He didn't know he was doing rumors when he told the other kids. He was just bothered, okay? I can't believe my mom even told you about that. Just forget it, Sophie. Sit down."

Sophie looked at me a little horrified and pitying. "Nina."

I swung my arm and pointed sharp to Maes's empty desk. "Sit down!"

Sophie nodded. "Sure. Sorry." She shot dagger eyes at Mikey that said she wasn't done with him. "We're at a good stopping place."

I hunched in my seat. The reason Selim and Elysia were the only childhood friends I still hung out with was because all the other kids I'd known in school had only been social with me because I had been the Fuhrer's daughter. Underneath that, I had been the freak with allegedly uncontrollable outbursts who had developed some kind of fetish for the drinking fountain and every other source of water out there; the girl that didn't come to birthday parties that involved sleepovers or bathing suits for reasons no one could figure out. I was the Furher and his wife's personal charity case, their good deed, the freakish adopted stray. Mikey Havoc had unknowingly fostered that identity over me from the time he'd entered the school system.

Not. His. Fault.

As I put my signature on a half-read piece of paperwork, I swore I heard Braddock whisper in Mikey's direction, "Not cool, man."

I hoped in my head that Braddock was talking about how Mikey had just now handled Sophie and not about how Mikey had handled me in grade school.

I paused. I looked down at the pen in my hand. I looked down at my paper. I looked at the perfect signature scribbled into the blank. My signature.

"Oh, God!" I said. "I signed it!"

Eyes turned to me, mostly confused. Sophie seemed to understand immediately, though. Her eyes widened.

"You signed it?" she said. "That's paperwork! Doesn't that go against your beliefs or something?"

"What's wrong with me?" I said. I tore the paper in half and then into fourths. "No. This isn't happening. Oh, God. I'm sorry for yelling a sec ago, Sophie. You know, I was kind of lying about the mood swings before, but I think that it just might be true. Look at me. I'm a productive wreck!" I laughed. "Ha. Reproductive wreck."

I bit my lip.

Sophie knit her brow. "Huh?"

Braddock did this thing where his eyes were suddenly on me then they were suddenly back to his desk. He…didn't suspect a thing.

"Nothing," I said. "It's an inside joke."

"Inside," said Sophie, "joke?"

I nodded. "With myself."

"Okay…" She looked at the torn paper in my hands. "Can I make a necklace out of that?"

I crunched the pieces into a wad and tossed it to her. "Enjoy."

"Sweet!" she said.

"Soph," I said.

"Yeah, what?"

I tugged my shirt from my chest. "Heal it with alkehestry?"

She shook her head strict. "You let that tatt heal a fraction faster than's natural and I swear you'll need a touch-up in less than a month."

"It itches!" I whined.

"You can ice it in eleven hours," she said.

I groaned.

Olga showed interest. "The Major has gotten a tattoo?"

"Not like it's a first for me," I said. I held up my wrists. "Alchemy, baby."

"This new one," said Olga. "It is also for alchemical purposes?"

I sucked my lip. "More or less."

"The breakthrough circle?" said Olga with a smile.

"Ha!" I laughed. "Good one. No. That 'breakthrough' was for people who need detailed arrays for transmutations of the like. This tattoo was for more personal uses, you know?"

"Olga does not know," said Olga.

"Maybe," said Mikey with his usual embarrassed flush, "we don't want to know, Armstrong."

"Hm?" said Olga.

"Not those kinds of personal uses, Mikey," I said. "More like I wanted better access to my life force. Up until now, I could only really _feel_ the flow if I was activating one of the circles on my wrist over my heart. I mean, I could do it from other points, but there always had to be that contact. It's been inconvenient. Once the tattoo on my chest heals, with all luck on my side, I'll be able to activate it and access my life force just by thinking about it. Right now it just itches, though."

"Baby," grumbled Sophie.

Braddock had his eyes locked on me with this earnest, straight expression that made me want to tell him I'd been lying when I'd told him I wasn't pregnant.

Braddock asked with caution, "You can access your own life force, Major?"

My brow knit. "Well, yeah. Of course I can."

"Sorry," said Braddock. "I didn't know that was a thing."

"Neither did I," piped up Frank. He didn't look up from his work. "Probably should've guessed, though. How's that work, Major Mustang? I'm curious. 'Accessing' your own life force."

Of course he was curious. I'd shown him my ability to suck life outta stuff when most people only saw me put life in.

"It's just something I do," I said. I folded my hands on my lap and exhaled thoughtful. "Let's see. How do I put it in words? Actually, when it comes to life forces, it's easier to describe them in colors and smells. That sort of thing, believe it or not. But if I had to explain it scientific…" I sucked my lip. "Think of it this way. Most alchemists, like Braddock, can 'access' life's flow to certain degrees, but they only use it as material or as a tool to perform transmutations. It's limited. They need specialized circles and techniques, like our recent breakthrough, to gain that access to complete the given transmutation. Make sense?"

"I'm not new to this field, Major," said Frank.

"No need to get snarky," I said. "So, anyway. In my case, it goes a little further. Instead of _using_ life's flow, I'm able to join it and…it uses me."

Frank looked up for a moment. "You lost me."

I sank my chin onto my knuckles. I sucked my lip. This was so beyond them. Not even Maes or Uncle Ed understood this junk. I mean, not even I had understood it until that day I'd touched Aunt Mei's pregnant tummy in Xing and gotten to join with her and her baby's life force for just a few seconds.

"It's like new life," I said, sitting up in my chair. "Think about when a woman becomes pregnant. She was born with a life force all her own. Then she conceives. A new life sparks out of nowhere, and, even though it's a life force all its own, for the time it's growing inside its mom, that baby's life force is connected to hers. It doesn't feed off it. It simply carries on the flow. That's how it is with me and _life's overall flow_. I'm a separate life force with the ability to join another. When I access that ability, I can touch stuff with my fingers and it's like a direct touch from the Dragon's Pulse. The transmutation circles on my wrists are just doors into that energy that open when I tell them to. With this new circle over my chest, I now have a door to my own life force, hands free."

"I still don't see the point in doing that," said Frank.

I rolled my eyes. "Like I was saying earlier, it's hard to explain what touching my own life force implies. It's like…" I closed my eyes and breathed. "You ever been to a valley, Franky? You ever been to a creek? You know what it's like to feel that soft kind of grass under your feet and smell damp soil after rain? Because that's what it's like. Clover and wind and pine. Warm and cool. Breezes of white fullness. Everything's clear and gentle with grass stains on your knees and the sky's never been so blue on earth. But in that dream, the sun's so gold you could cry. Those scars you memorized leave your body and your mind. All those people you thought were gone are telling you they're there and all that stuff about death turns out not to be scary. Just another door."

I opened my eyes to the stark plaster ceiling. I frowned.

"And then I disconnect and get back to myself," I said. "And all that white turns empty again."

Frank met my eyes when I finally looked over. He was studying me with a kind of awe that I'd seen reserved for Maes mostly.

"That sounds," he said, "very pleasant."

I nodded. I looked out over the others, took in all their expressions, and spoke before any of them could comment.

"Don't you dare tell Maes I got this, you understand?" I pulled at my shirt. "I've wanted to do this tattoo since before we even got married, but he didn't want me to, so I skipped it."

I got nods of agreement.

"Mind if I ask why the General was opposed?" asked Braddock.

"Well…" I hugged my stomach and looked away. "Well, let's just say I used my life force for something big a long time ago."

"Big?" said Braddock.

I nodded. "It ended badly. Maes got spooked and asked me not to use myself as material again. And I haven't. I never will. I don't need to now that I've revised my alchemy. Just, Maes doesn't understand my kind of alchemy, so all I have to do is mention touching my life force and he equates it as using it up. He got spooked. I decided to respect his fear and forgo the direct tattoo. Until yesterday, of course."

"You really were mad at him, huh?" said George.

I met his big brown eyes peering from behind square-rimmed glasses. His gaze was soft, the upset from the previous day's conflict suddenly gone. I sucked my lip.

"Something like that," I said. More along the lines of wanting a door to my baby, but yeah, let's go with revenge on my husband for now.

Braddock watched me like he was onto something with every word I said. I gave him a stiff smile.

"Jeez, Nina," said Sophie. "You've got to teach me how to access that life shit sometime. Sounds like the best trip known to man."

"Get in line," I said. "As if trying to teach your dad isn't enough. I don't need another student getting frustrated on my ass every time I can't explain stuff right. I mean, seriously. Do I look like a walking periodic table?"

"To my dad?" said Sophie. "It's entirely possible."

Olga chuckled. "This is no joke."

"Major Mustang?" said George. "I have a question, if that's alright."

"Shoot, Sergeant," I said.

He looked pleased at being called by his special rank. "Well, I was just wondering. So far, our research has only been applied to _using_ the Dragon's Pulse, so I guess I was just curious about what you accomplish by 'joining' it. Besides it being a nice experience, I mean."

I shrugged. "You've seen what I can do. I have more direct access, so my transmutations are less limited. Remember those grapes I transmuted out of your trail-mix raison?"

George nodded. "They were good, too."

"If you want the truth about my alchemy," I said, "as powerful as it is, it's actually pretty limited when it comes to transmutations of the inorganic. You know, the kinds of stuff Fullmetal was famous for wielding? I can't do that. I can pump life through a squashed seed and make it an orchard, but if you asked me to transmute your pen into a triangle shape, I'd probably find it a challenge. No life in plastic. Using the Dragon's Pulse in nonliving materials is a lot harder for me than using it for transmutations that are compatible with live energy."

"That's kind of cool, though," said George. "Life would be boring without limits on it."

"And dangerous," said Frank.

"You said you perform transmutations with _all_ organic materials, Major Mustang?" said Braddock. "Hope this doesn't sound ignorant, but wouldn't that include the human body? Just, I only ever seen you handle plants since I got here. As far as I could tell, General Elric and Dr. Knox have been the ones working the medical research."

I folded my arms and smiled. "Well, you really want to know?"

Braddock blinked. "Just, you mentioned life forces. Sounds like souls to me. Plants don't have those."

Sophie shot me a proud smile. "She's called the Soul's Circuit Alchemist for a reason."

I caught Mikey shaking his head. "That's a figure of speech. The Amestrian Military doesn't allow research into the field of human souls. Actually, I'm not sure I follow what the Major means about touching her own life force, but it sounds illegal."

Sophie glared at him. I spoke before she could.

"Braddock's right," I said. "So is Sophie. So is Mikey. I can access souls like a boss. I am not permitted to _manipulate_ them under the duress of the Amestrian Military." I looked at Braddock. "So I let Maes and Knox handle the human body, for the most part."

George looked at me excitedly. "Wait, does that mean you can heal people like the General can? I've only ever heard you talk with him about it."

I sucked my lip and folded my hands on my desk. "Not exactly the same thing. Maes uses alkehestry, which is pretty different from what I do."

I met George's questioning look and recalled the way Uncle Ed had writhed and groaned while I'd healed his stomach in Xing those years ago. Not even automail surgery had been able to make Edward Elric scream like that, so I'd been told. I remembered the agony on Maes's face, his pale features twisted in pain and fear as I'd restored his lungs. I'd healed Maes and his dad with the help of the extra soul energy in my life force, a buffer and focus of my power. A healing like I was capable of now, one directly from the source, the pain could…

I looked at my thumbs. "My healing transmutations are a lot more powerful, but the pain from such rapid detox and regeneration is almost too much to live through. Like I said. I leave it up to Maes to handle the human body."

Mikey looked a little ill. "I'll be sure not to break my arm in your proximity, Major."

Sophie glared. "Nina would sooner let you reset and splint it yourself, you little shit. She's just that nice."

"Anyway!" I said. I cleared my throat. "Enough about my stuff. It has nothing to do with this workplace of ours. Get back to being bored."

Mikey practically cowered, but I was pretty sure he wasn't afraid of _me_ this time, oddly enough. George said, "Yes ma'am." Sophie entertained herself by giving Olga the gift of a paper necklace fashioned from my signed and ripped deskwork.

Braddock and Frank, on the other hand, did not seem interested in getting bored like I'd instructed. I'd been so polite, too! But there they were, looking at me more or less serious and not paying attention to their desks.

"Major Mustang," they said in sudden unison. They looked at each other in a quick motion that said they hadn't meant to speak at the same time. After the brief, silent exchange, they looked back at me and said, "Major Mustang," in accidental unison again.

I cackled. "Oh, wow! Awkward as heck! You two should just quit while you're ahead, good sirs."

Braddock opened his mouth to speak, but Frank was quick on the draw and spoke first. "Major, I need a word."

"Uh, yeah," said Braddock. "I could use one too, actually, if it ain't a bad time."

Frank focused his eyes on me like Braddock was a side note in the conversation. Braddock seemed to catch onto Frank's attitude and seemed uneasy with it. He was the new guy, after all.

"I choose Major Braddock," I said. "Private matter? To the hall we go!"

Frank frowned. "My matter of discussion is relatively pressing, Mustang."

"No problem, sir," said Braddock. "I can wait."

"You guys are making me scared," I said.

Frank stared at me, frown tightening into a near grimace for just a moment. He closed his eyes. He opened them and stood.

"Hallway, Braddock," Frank said. "Knowing her, we'd better share this time slot."

I stuck a fist on my hip. "Knowing me? What's that supposed to mean? You giving me sass, Frank?"

Frank held the door open for us and waited. "No offense, Major, but you've trended an unfortunate tendency in the past to storm off toward the end of any topic you deem personally controversial."

"What a mouthful," I said.

He arched a not very amused brow and I sighed.

"Fine, you got yourself a point." I walked on to the door and Braddock followed hesitantly. I got pouty on our way out. "And this better not be about the tattoo. I'm twenty-four years old. I can do stuff. Grown up stuff."

"It's not the tattoo," they both said.

Immediately after the door shut, Braddock rung his hands and said, "Look, I ain't sure now's a good time. I may bring it up later, if it's all the same."

I blinked. "That private?"

It was like he was having trouble meeting my eyes. "Yes, Major. I'd have to say so."

Frank dragged his hand down his face. "How about this? I'll make a loop around the hall while you say what you came to say, Major Braddock. I don't have time for ambling."

"Yes, sir," said Braddock. "Appreciate it."

I folded up my arms and frowned at Frank sarcastic. "Mister Impatient."

Frank looked not very loosened up by my statement. He started down the hall with his hands in his pockets. I huffed and tugged my shirt from my chest.

"Sorry," I said. "He gets tense when Maes isn't around."

Braddock shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

"What did you need to ask me?" I said.

"I…" he said. He looked away. "Well, I'm not sure."

I lowered my voice. "Is it about your family? Do you guys need help or something? Because, I'm a helpful person even when Maes isn't around, contrary to common belief."

His smile was thin and nervous. "I'm sure, but that's not it. My family's doing just fine. Thanks, though."

I looked at him, caught the flush building at the tops of his ears.

"What's got you embarrassed?" I said.

"Nothing," he said. "I just…" He hesitated with his mouth a little open for a moment. Then he let out a long breath and shook his head and said, "Forget it. It really ain't my place."

I narrowed my eyes. "Well, now you have to tell me. Come on. What's got you?"

He swallowed hard like he was taking a pill without water. The flush spread to the rest of his face. He took a breath. I waited very patient.

"I was just," he started, "concerned. Yesterday, after the General left, you seemed…I don't know, panicked?"

"Yes?"

His brow wrinkled. "I mean, I felt bad, letting you leave on your own with you acting so disoriented. I didn't really know what was going on, you talking on and on about being pregnant all the sudden…"

My heart felt like it was thudding drumbeats. I gulped. Braddock continued like this was all common knowledge.

"I figured it was none of my business," he said. "I mean, that's between you and your husband, but you were so up in arms about it. I half wondered if you were just thinking out loud of some way to get General Elric to stay, and that's not my business either. I wasn't going to pry. You just…a moment ago, you were talking about sensing souls. If you have some kind of _sense_ that you're pregnant, I need to make sure you're all right, whether it's my business or otherwise. I got a sensitive conscience when it comes to being decent to your fellow man. It makes me nervous, you being in that condition with your husband away. I wouldn't have said anything, but you've been so frazzled since yesterday. I've never seen you so frantic since I met you, Major. Is everything okay?"

"Frazzled? Frantic?" I felt a tremble run through me. "Oh, Braddock! It's so much worse than that! My stupid hubby knocked me up with corn cravings!" I sniffled. "Of course I'm not okay!"

I leaned forward to plant my face into the front of his blue uniform and sniveled completely pathetic. And here I'd gone to such lengths to throw him off.

The door to the office swung open with enough force to whip the air. The thud of high-heeled leather boots stopped in the doorway.

"Oh, my God!" Sophie screamed. "I knew it!"

Her wiry hands grabbed my shoulders and yanked me away from Braddock and into her arms. She squeezed me and shook me and squealed like a piglet. My head rocked back and forth with her jerks. I caught a glimpse in my peripheral of Frank standing rigid and terrified a ways down the hall with his mouth moving to the word, "Pregnant?"

"Oh, my God! Oh, my goddamn God!" said Sophie. "Are you crying? You're adorable!"

The other team members had apparently gathered not far behind Sophie. I heard them buzzing to each other.

"Congratulations, Major Mustang!" said George like a little chirping bird. "I had no idea!"

I sniffled and rubbed my eye with a clumsy fist. "Of course you had no idea," I croaked. "I'm not pregnant. Not at all."

"Aw!" said Sophie, hugging me tight against her. "You're so obvious and you don't even know it!"

"It's true?" said Mikey. "She's actually…?"

Olga nodded. "No need to be bashful. The art of reproduction has been passed down the human race for generations."

"Hey, keep your voices down," said Braddock, kind of in a muddle. "Show some decency, fellas, would you?"

"I'm not pregnant," I said. I took a deep, sobbing breath. "I'm not!"

I bit my lip and pushed away from Sophie in a jerk. Saying it like that, saying it so firm, scared me to death. Telling the world I wasn't pregnant with that kind of authority made me feel like the baby was going to disappear. I wanted to feel my life force, I wanted to probe into our joined souls, but with the tattoo still fresh in my chest, I couldn't do any more than trust the dulled sense in my being that I wasn't alone. I couldn't risk activating it too soon.

I stomped to my desk, Sophie trailing swiftly after me like the nag she was.

"But, you're happy about it," she said, "right?"

I saw Maes in my head, replayed the too-close memory of us holding each other in the bathroom after I'd ignited my birth-control pills in the sink. My heart raced. If I'd been able to tell him right then, if I'd had just a trace of hope to give him somewhere in that memory, hope like I had living in me now…

I plunked down in my chair and slammed my pen into some paperwork. "Shush. I'm busy."

"Oh, God," said Sophie, hand to her mouth. "You do want this baby, don't you? I mean, I can't be off base on that. You were just saying yesterday…"

I ground my teeth. I wanted to say it. I wanted to shout it through every door and window. I wanted Maes to get his ass back from Grandma's so he could come hear our news and shout about it with me!

I stood fast enough to make my chair screech. My fists smacked against my desk.

"Shut your gossip-holes!" I said. "You don't know the first thing about it! Maes and I tried freaking hard for a baby, but guess what? We were just two idiots who'd gotten their bodies too fracked up as kids to make babies as adults. We freaking bawled over this twisted junk! If I, by some miracle, ever got fertilized, Maes would be the first to hear it! It's not just some cheap piece of info or some good freaking news. We're talking hard-core marital topics, here. Maes hears it first, you understand me? Then I tell my mom!" I sank back into my chair and cried into my hand. "So, I can't be pregnant. Because Maes hears it first, got it? And he's in Dublith right now and he's busy, so…Just shut up!"

There was a moment of silence where all I saw was my palm against my teary eyes and all that could be heard was big, obnoxious Nina-sobs. Then I felt Sophie's arms coming around me from behind and I smelled her product-plastered hair as she nuzzled her face against mine.

"Hey," she said real soft. "I didn't hear anything, okay? None of us did." I felt her draw away a little and say very firm, "Did we, soldiers?"

A chorus of, "No, sir!" filled the room. The united sound of compliance to Sophie's farce triggered another hard sob out of me.

Sophie patted my back. "Oh, hey now. Hush, sweet stuff. Don't make yourself gag."

I hunched, fisting my hair, calming my breath. "Crap. General? Seriously?"

"I need to take you home," said Sophie.

"So, so much." I sniveled. "But, wait. Franky didn't get to talk to me about his pressing matter yet. I'm being a flake! Just like he said!"

"It can sit," said Frank a little raspy.

"Damn right it can sit," said Sophie.

My sister in-law helped me to my feet and held my arm as we headed out. I felt really dependent and it was mildly wonderful because, even with Maes gone, I had a Sophie.

My eyes darted to the faces of my team members. Some of them were pale with shock or discomfort, some flushed and awkward, and some even brightened with excitement or something. One thing was the same in all their expressions, one common element.

Fear.

More like raw concern. The concern Braddock had shown in the hall.

That slight tightness in the features, that quickness in the breath, and that wrinkle in the brow and dilated pupil crap. It was underneath every silent stare I got as Sophie and I left. Frank, Braddock, Mikey, George, and Olga alike. Their eyes followed with a kind of worry that I wasn't used to getting from them. As Sophie took me into the hall, I felt my chest break into another sob. This was not good.

* * *

**No telling how much of that little episode was pregnancy hormones and how much of it was just Nina being Nina. Guess we'll never know.**

**The final pages of chapter 2 for 'Drastic Measures' have just gone up on dA, for those interested. Link on profile.**

* * *

REPLIES!

mixmax300: Maes should know by now that trying to keep Nina out of trouble ALWAYS backfires XP

Evarria: Yeah, FL was sort of an experiment for me. Now I get to go right to the good stuff with this sequel.

author12306: I can't decide whether Nina is so smooth she's sloppy or so sloppy she's smooth. Hm. Maes is so smooth it should be illegal.

SilverPedals1402: Thanks about 'Straightjacket Mama'! I saw you faved it ;v; It's a little old, but it came from the pit of my soul.

KTrevo: Well, you gotta take into consideration that a good part of the military staff think Nina's a piece of work. Secrecy from her is understandable.

Harryswoman: Maes thinks fast. Nina talks fast. It works.

pitstop96: I'm feeling much better, thanks! I wasn't sure how I'd do Nina when it's supposed to be 3 years post-FL, but she's practically writing herself now.

* * *

**CHALLENGE! Tell me which of Maes and Nina's research team members you like the best so far and give me you reason(s) why.**

**Example- I like Olga Armstrong because she talks in third person and we have no idea why. Yet.**


	7. Interrogation

**A/N: So, this chapter took a while, but it's worth it, guys. **

**Omg thanks for the patience!**

* * *

Chapter 7: Interrogation

Sophie rubbed my feet while I waited with the phone to my ear. I didn't need my feet rubbed. They weren't swollen in the slightest. Actually, my tootsies were quite dandy. I mean, I'd only been pregnant for, like, a week. But, hey, she'd offered. I'd seen no reason to turn her down.

"Come on," I grumbled under my breath. "Pick up, you stupid husband."

Maes had said it's be three days. He'd said it like he'd been sincere at the time. Maes was good at lying, though, so there was really no telling. Maes hadn't called once in those three days and I'd told myself that no news was good news and he was probably just busy.

Then I'd gotten a call from my dad on the day Maes was supposed to be back. First time I'd heard from Daddy since I'd walked in on the war meeting and he'd told me to get out promptly afterward. All Dad called to say, though, was just a little heads up that General Elric had been detained in Dublith and would be coming home later than originally intended.

My first response had been, "Wait, you mean, like, a couple hours later, right?"

But it had been five days since that call. Five freaking days! And nothing. Not a call from Maes. Not a call from Grandma or Sig. Not another word from either of my parents. Not even a measly update from Aunt Winry on Uncle Ed. Apparently he'd been detained in _Xing_ without much word, same as Maes.

At first I'd been kind of a case. I hadn't even shown up to work the day after Dad's call. Instead, Sophie had read aloud to me straight until bedtime from a copy of one of her best friend's self-published paperback romance novels while we shared mint ice cream out of the tub. I'd gotten over it enough by Tuesday to show my face in the office, though. It was kind of a funny experience, because every member on the team had been well aware of Maes's delay by then and they were so wary of me when I showed up that I was tempted to fake a breakdown just to see their reactions.

The days went by, and eventually my panic over Maes being gone in the midst of chaos faded to a constant, underlying anxiety that didn't leave, but didn't get in the way anymore either. I'd fallen into a nonchalant irritability that made me sarcastic and helped me not to care quite so much about the details. It was a part of my personality that had reared itself substantially in the years I'd known Maes, and it came in handy both with and without him.

Sophie paused in the foot rubbing as I dropped the phone back on its hook.

"No luck, huh?" she said.

"Depends on how you look at it," I said. "I mean, what the hell was I even going to say to him? Maybe him neglecting my calls could be considered luck at this point."

Sophie rolled her eyes and set my feet on the ground. "Or maybe my brother needs to get his act in gear and call his damn wife back. Jeez. You know, he's really starting to piss me off."

That made my breath quicken. Sophie didn't get pissed at Maes easily. He was her big soft spot.

"He doesn't know I'm pregnant, Soph," I said.

"He would if he'd come home when he told you he would."

"Yeah, well," I rolled my shoulders back and yawned lazily. "Too bad, I guess."

Sophie came around and squeezed her arms around me. "Let me make you some corn muffins."

"Gross!" I said. "Can you double the recipe?"

Sophie grinned like she was so close to laughing it was making her face hurt. She patted the top of my head and sauntered off to the pantry for the cornmeal.

Sophie and I had always gotten along better than you'd think girls like us could get along with most anybody, but, since I'd spilled about my pregnancy, she'd gotten borderline supportive. She'd freaking cooked for me, and Sophie detested housewifery. Inevitably, Sophie became the one person so far besides me allowed to totally acknowledge the truth that I was, in fact, pregnant.

Plus, I planned on eventually going to some kind of doctor about this whole baby thing and if Maes couldn't get his butt to Central in time for that, I sure as hell wasn't going to see those damn white-coated bastards without backup. Sophie seemed the next obvious choice.

It was Sunday and I had the day off, by some miracle, in spite of my unexcused absence the Monday before. Sophie and I had been stopping by Aunt Winry's in the evenings after work, but with the day free, we planned on going between breakfast and lunch sometime so the twins would be napping for part it and Aunt Winry could have some time to chat without worrying about keeping constant track of her boys. I'd asked Sophie the day before if maybe she could ask Aunt Winry some subtle stuff about pregnantness that I'd have to go to a doc to find out otherwise.

Like, for example, should I be worried about the fact that I was growing what would eventually amount to a multi-pound child directly in front of the damaged part of my spine? And, with that in mind, just how long could I put this whole doctor's appointment thing off?

"Enjoying yourself?" Sophie asked with satisfaction as I licked the last buttery crumbs of hot cornbread off my plate.

I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. "My tattoo itches and I've been impregnated with a feral desire to suck up sweet corn like a vacuum consuming dust particles. What is there left in life to enjoy?"

"You know, sometimes I find it hard to believe you're five years older than me."

"Four years!" I said.

"Four years," she said. She added softly. "And thirteen months."

Sophie was a year younger than Maes so she was supposed to be four years younger than me, but no. When precise, she was a year and a _half_ younger than her brother, therefore just over five years younger than me with my precise three years and four months on Maes's age. I'd calculated that some time after knowing her and afterward had promptly decided she was four years younger than me as I'd originally assumed and anyone who said otherwise was confused.

"We should head to Mom's," said Sophie, eyeing her wristwatch.

I slumped in my seat. "You go on."

Sophie stared at me. "Huh?"

"I just think maybe I'll stay here, you know?" I sighed. "Aunt Winry's, like, mega smart and she's going to figure out I'm pregnant if we start sniffling around for advice. I'm only a week along. I figure I'll worry about it later."

Sophie raised a studded brow. "You serious? You said last night you wanted to be ultra careful."

"Yeah." I massaged my fingers nervously. "But what if Aunt Winry finds out without Maes there? He's going to want to be there when she finds out. And I kind of wanted my mom to hear it before your mom, if that doesn't sound shallow."

"No," said Sophie. "It really doesn't. Whatever, Nina. It's cool. We don't have to talk to my mom. She's had experience with complications, but it's not like she's a certified doctor. If you really want to be careful, just hook up an appointment with someone sworn to secrecy via Hippocratic oath. I'll even go with you if it'll make you feel better."

I groaned into my hand. This was what I'd been trying to avoid. Sophie was right. I did want to be careful. Besides the spinal damage from three years prior, I'd gone through enough beatings and malnutrition as a young child to warrant some major precautions now that my body was supporting two lives rather than just mine. I mean, technically, I had a history of fertility issues, as stale and dusty as that sounded.

I'd counted on monitoring my baby's life force in the early stages. I mean, it had felt strong last I'd touched it, but I'd be holding off exploring it too deeply while the tattoo on my chest went through its early healing process. All I had for the time being was the general sense that it was there. Not nothing, but not everything either. A responsible parent would want more, press for better control over the situation.

Of course, most parents didn't know for sure if they'd even conceived until weeks after the fact. And I was at eight days, so I couldn't be all that negligent in retrospect.

"Sophie," I said softly. "I'm freaking terrified."

She put a hand on my head and bunched her heavily ringed fingers through my shaggy hair. "So understandable, girl."

"I mean, I've got minimal control here," I said.

"No dip."

"All I can do at the present moment just now is keep my oven healthy until the bun's golden brown."

Sophie cackled, threading her fingers out of my hair to hug me. "Dude, you're priceless!"

"It's like," I sucked my lip, "Maes not knowing has gone from annoying to excruciating to just plain scary. What if my pregnancy with this one turns out kind of like Aunt Winry's pregnancy with Maes and as soon as I hit the morning sickness stages, things go majorly downhill for me and baby? And then telling Maes about the baby turns from fun to not fun at all because I'll be doing it as a warning instead of great news."

"He's going to see it as good news whether you run into complications or not." Sophie nuzzled my ear. "You know that."

"Well," I frowned, "that's pretty much stupid."

Sophie sighed. "Nina."

I hunched like a turtle retreating into its shell. "Damn them. Damn them all. Those bastards. Slaughtered my friends, stole the first three years of my life, warped the rest of my childhood into fiery nightmares and scars I wasn't allowed to show the other kids. Memories so bad I suppressed them just to get by and completely lost it when they came back." I took a breath that shook with wild anger. My fists clenched against my thighs. "Being pregnant's supposed to make you happy. You're not supposed to worry about old wounds making for a dysfunctional oven!"

Sophie's breathing was kind of choppy and on the furious side against me, but I soon found it was for different reasons from me. "I'll kill him. That idiot! He may not have known you were pregnant, Nina, but he knew he was leaving you with the realization that those lab bastards messed with your ability to bear children. After all you've been through, he won't even pick up the damn phone? Screw him! Cocky little jackass! I'm going to knock him out the next time I see his smug face!"

I wriggled from out of her arms. She was hugging me tight and I felt a little bit smothered. I stared at her, her eyes. Her expression was flushed with anger, but the strained pout in her mouth and watery look of her gaze told me she was frustrated enough to cry about it.

"Sophie?"

She glared at the floor. "What?"

I grabbed her cheeks and made her look at me. Tilting her face to a different angle seemed to have the same result as tipping a pitcher. Small tears flicked from her lashes and bled trickles of mascara down her cheeks.

"Why do you like me so much?" I asked. I'd kind of been wondering for years.

She tugged her face away and ran the back of her fist over her eyes, drying tears and smudging her make up worse at the same time.

"Because," she said. "My brother likes you."

"Maes likes everyone, last I checked." I laughed. "Except our good pal, Bob. He hated that guy."

Sophie sniffled. "Dear God, Nina! You're always talking about the 'Maes Effect,' like big bro has something on you. Ever since I met you, you look in the mirror and all you see are the remains of an experiment. Then you turn around and see Maes and all of the sudden you're looking at a hero. You do realize you're just as smart as him, don't you?"

My mind wandered onto memories of Maes reading fast enough to make his eyes vibrate in their sockets. I remembered the few times he'd recounted a train of thought to me, the few times he'd thought aloud without meaning to. Sophie seemed to understand what was going through my mind.

"Thinking fast is a handy talent," she said. "But obtaining and retaining information is useless if one can't apply it to anything. Maes has always been good at that."

So have you, Nina. That's what her hard stare was saying to me. You're good at what Maes is good at.

"He has his ways," said Sophie. "You have yours."

"You like me because I'm like Maes?" I should've expected that.

Sophie threw her head back and groaned. "I like you just fine, Nina. I show it with you more than I do with other people because you don't like yourself half as much as you should."

I blinked. "Excuse me?" Her words were flattering, I guessed, but she kind of sounded insulting the way she was saying it.

She stood and took my shoulders in her grip, stared me hard in the eyes. "Okay, that came out wrong. Listen, I'm not into helping people with self-esteem issues 'find' themselves or whatever you want to call it. That's complete and utter bull. I'm not here to boost your confidence. I'm not here to 'like' you, either. Jeez. I'm not here because everyone's a fan of Maes and I think you should have at least one fan on your side."

It was funny. She didn't say that last one like an insult at all. She said it kind of the way Maes had said the other night that I had a lot more friends at Central Command than I realized. She was saying I was oblivious.

I shrugged her off. "Wait, you're not telling me why you like me. You're scolding me for even asking!"

Sophie stood straight and folded her arms with a snooty glance to the side. "I swear. You and Maes both. You just can't get a clue. You know each other and everyone else like open books, but you don't know a single thing about yourselves. It's sad." Her ears were turning red. She glanced at me. "I respect you, okay? Is that so wrong?" She scuffed her foot against the floor. "It just pisses me off when bro disrespects you. That's it."

I blinked. I felt a warm tickle building in my chest and making my cheeks rosy. I snorted. I laughed. I pointed my finger as her and doubled over on myself with giggles. Sophie pouted her lip.

"What?" she said.

"Oh, man!" I said. "You're like a female version of Frankfurter! I could kiss you!"

"Shut up!" she said. "It's not like I'm your fan club! I already said that!"

My insides hurt I was laughing so hard. "I'm sorry," I panted. "Just…oh, wow. No one's ever said that to me quite like that."

"What?" She rolled her eyes. "That they respect you?"

I shook my head. I took a calming breath. "No, I get that plenty. Believe it or not, most people actually mean it when they say it lately." I sighed and rested back. "Come on, Sophie. I know I'm smart. I'm just surprised you noticed. It's funny to me, because people usually respect me for my attitude or my insights. Sometimes alchemy. No one ever quite classifies it as intelligence, though." I looked up at her and smiled. "Thanks, Sophie. That was really sweet. You're pretty smart yourself."

Sophie's expression slackened. "I wasn't giving you some hollow compliment."

"Neither was I." My shoulders sank. "But you're right. I do feel inferior to Maes a lot of the time. All the time. If it's not one thing, then it's another." I shook my head. "It's rarely intelligence, though. We've all got something to offer, and I don't value brains nearly as much as most other people do."

Sophie smiled a little. "I should've expected that from you."

I shrugged. "Yeah, well." I stood. "I should get into something fresh and stylish so we can visit your mom."

"You're coming?"

I nodded. "I could use a mom hug after a conversation like that, and my mom's been too busy for me, so yours seems like the most logical option right now."

Sophie squeezed my shoulder with a gentle hand. "Yeah, okay, sweet stuff. I need to fix my make up. Mom can sniff out tears from a mile away."

I patted Sophie's hand then pointed to it where it rested on my shoulder. "You get this affectionate and sweet with everyone you _just respect_?"

She jerked her hand away all blushing and sulking. Dang. She was about as okay with being caught showing mushy emotions as her dad was. I'd heard stories of Uncle Ed being pretty much just like her before Maes had come along and domesticated him.

"Hey," she said. "Nina?"

I paused from heading to my room. "Yeah?"

Sophie folded her arms and looked away. "I've been talking with the guys you work with every time I go in with you. You talk about Lt. Colonel Charlie being obsessed with Maes, but what he has to say about you is nothing short of unbreakable admiration. Sergeant Fuery told me the other day what you told them about team captains and players. He said that General Elric makes a winning coach and Major Mustang is a captain worth playing beside."

"What the hell!" I crossed my arms and huffed. "I didn't mean it like that. I was talking about Maes being the captain!"

Sophie grinned. "They know."

"I can't believe this crap! I'm such a total player!" I paused. "That sounded bad, didn't it?"

Sophie shrugged. "Hey, I'm not exactly one to judge."

I swatted her arm. "Go fix your gorgeous make up."

Sophie shot me one last smile. "Yes, sir!"

…

The first thing Sophie and I noticed as our cab pulled up to her parents' house was the extra car in the driveway. The second thing we noticed were the dents in the bumper. What I noticed next was those dents in the bumper were familiar; in fact, they were my doing from a brief driving lesson my dad had supervised when I was coming out of high school. The first of many reasons the State of Amestris had eventually revoked my driver's license.

"Holy guacamole!" I said. "My parents are here!"

I bounded out of the cab and I heard Sophie huff a breath at being left with the fare. Too bad. My fricking parents were in there!

"Nina!" Sophie called after me. "Nina, wait up!"

I ran up the path and pounded my fist to the door.

"Nina," Sophie whined. She tugged my arm. "Quit it, would you? The twins are supposed to be napping right now."

I pushed the doorbell a few good times in a row. "Screw that. If my parents are here, that means they have free time, which means there's no excuse. They can't escape it now."

"Escape?" Sophie sounded like she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Bwahaha!" I said. "There will be no mercy!"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Ugh."

The doorknob made a sound like it was being unlocked. I heard a muffled male voice say from the other side, "No, I got it."

I stepped back. The knob turned and the door creaked cautiously open by just a crack.

"Can I," said the voice, "help you?"

There was a pause as I tried to make out the man's face past the door he'd systematically hid behind. Then the silent moment ended in a whoosh. The door swung full open and six feet of pure gentleman yanked me and Sophie into a tight hug.

"Hey, it's you!" Uncle Al was so excited, I half wondered if he realized my feet weren't touching the ground. "What are you doing here? Wow, it's really been a while!"

"Whoa, ease up," Sophie laughed. "You're crushing us with your love, Uncle Al."

I squirmed in his hug and his arm let go all at once. I landed on my feet. I panted air back into my lungs.

"Oh," he said with a hand awkwardly rubbing his hair. "Sorry, Nina. Did I hurt you?"

I straightened my coat. "Why are you here?" I glared. "Is Maes with you? You have five seconds to say yes before I transmute your stupid grin into jelly."

Uncle Al's eyes widened all shocked and hurt and maybe scared. "What?"

Sophie's hands were grabbing my arms in an instant.

"Hey, Al?" Uncle Ed's voice called from inside. "Who's there? They giving you trouble?"

"Tell them we're not interested," Dad called in his peeved kind of tone. "I don't have time for door-to-door salesmen."

Sophie jerked me from the doorway and gave Uncle Al a strained smile.

"Give us a minute," she said to him. "We'll be right with you."

I pouted at her. "Sophie."

She looked me stern in the eye. "We'll be right with them."

Uncle Al nodded and retreated into the house a little weirded out and hesitant. He left the door open a crack for us. Sophie waited a few moments before getting on my case.

"Do you have no restraint?" she said. "None?"

I thought for a moment. I nodded. "None."

Sophie growled under her breath. "Dammit, Nina! You can't just ask straight questions and expect answers. Seriously. Since when has that worked? What ever happened to interrogation techniques and deduction?"

I let out a harsh sigh. "Who even knows? Whatever. Let's get inside. Uncle Al's probably warning them we're here so they can mobilize."

She grabbed my arms again and blocked my path. "Nuh uh. You're not going in there until you calm down. I know you. You're in one of those moods where you'll blow up over any given thing and spout off every secret you can get out before you either storm off or break down. You're freaked out because of Maes being gone and you're not thinking straight. I want you to take a breath and try putting on some kind of filter before you start talking to the family. Otherwise, you'll end up saying a lot of things you're going to wish you hadn't said later."

I swallowed hard. I relaxed my shoulders and sank in my shoes. I let out a long, steady breath.

"You're right," I said. I looked to the side. "Want to play dumb?"

Sophie raised her eyebrows. "Yeah. Not too dumb, though. Don't want to be obvious about it like we have something to hide."

I nodded. "We'll do it like Maes. Fed me classified information about foreign relations to keep me off the classified information about alchemy."

"We'll play their game."

I grinned a little evil. "By their rules."

Sophie smiled back like a pierced-up gremlin. "They'll never see it coming. Not from us."

"The ultimate filter," I said. "This time I choose what I leak." I smiled wider. "This time I lose it on purpose."

"There will be," said Sophie, "no mercy." She put her hand on my shoulder like a comrade in arms. "You ready, sir?"

"Affirmative, soldier." I chuckled and led the way to the door. I paused at the knob and whispered back to her all secretive. "Let's scam their pansy asses off with style."

I strode down the hall with purpose, tracking clods of slush into Aunt Winry's vacuumed carpet. Reaching the living room, I let myself in to face the three middle-aged men; Uncle Al next to Uncle Ed on the big couch and Dad across from them on the littler couch. I noted quickly that every one of them seemed up tight like they were ready to say stuff to me. Mobilized. Just as I'd expected.

"Nina," Daddy started. "You have to understand…"

"I apologize for my behavior earlier," I said. "I'm on my period."

Silence.

Sophie stepped forward. "I am too. We're tracking."

Pale middle-aged men. There was a long pause in which Sophie and I stood on display and the three menfolk tried very hard not to look straight at us. Jeez. They must've congregated fairly recently, as Uncle Ed had his feet propped up on a worn out suitcase that hadn't made it back to his room yet. Uncle Al was clad in one of those dorky Xingese outfits all layered for the cold and rumpled where he'd wrinkled it on the train ride over. Dad was sitting erect and drained of color, as would've been expected given my entrance, but I was more interested in the fact that he was in full uniform, winter coat included. He was here straight from work. And he apparently couldn't stay long enough to even bother hanging up his coat.

Uncle Al blinked like snapping out of something and looked over at the other two with growing amusement—Dad stunned in his silent, uncomfortable way and Uncle Ed stunned in his twitchy, awkward way. Uncle Al let out a breath. A slight smile touched his lips. He seemed kind of fond. He looked up at Sophie and me and stood.

"Sorry you're not feeling well," he said. He gestured to the now wide empty spot beside his brother. "Take a seat. We really appreciate you stopping by."

"You better," Sophie said with a teasing smile. "Where's Mom? We were dropping in for her, actually."

"Oh," said Uncle Al, blinking. "She and Mei took the kids to the park."

"The girlies are here?" I said excitedly.

Uncle Al nodded. "This is Lanny's first time seeing snow. Big sisters wanted to show her how to make a snowman."

Lanny. Ha. After naming their fourth child, Lan Fan, in honor of a dead friend who turned out not to actually be dead, Uncle Al and Aunt Mei had resorted to cute nicknames to cover the mistake up.

"They're building them with alkehestry, right?" said Sophie with a smirk.

Uncle Al looked a little nervous. "I made them promise to do it manually the first couple of times."

Uncle Ed laughed. "Yeah, good luck with that, Al. Jun's probably transmuted an ice-wall half as tall as HQ by now."

Sophie looked smug at the empty spot on the couch in front of her and seemed to make a point to sit right next to her dad, brushing shoulder-to-shoulder so he'd feel nice and very much awkward. Uncle Ed seemed to make an actual effort to shake off his discomfort over her alleged menstruation and he swung an arm around his daughter's shoulders.

He squeezed her tight, saying, "Hey, sweet stuff. I missed you."

Sophie leaned her head on his shoulder very cute. "You'd have missed me less if you'd been here when I got here."

Uncle Ed smiled apologetic. "Yeah, sorry about that. Something came up."

"We noticed." I sat down on my dad's armrest next to him and patted the top of his salt-and-pepper head. I eyed my father with a pout. "When's my Maesy coming home, Daddy? It's been forever."

Uncle Ed groaned. "His name's Maes. _Maes_! If one more person calls him that…"

"Maesy?" said Uncle Al. He shot Sophie a wink as he sat at her other side and she giggled.

"Yes, that!" Uncle Ed fumed. "Sounds like something you'd name a little girl."

I tapped my chin. "He can be quite a woman at times."

My dad chuckled. I felt his broad hand on my waist and I looked down to see him nodding at me to sit beside him on the couch. I kicked off my shoes and dropped my coat on my lap as I sat beside him, a silent declaration of, 'please stick around.'

"So," he said after a moment. "Back to your question…"

I exchanged a look with Sophie. Here went the filter. "About Maes."

Dad nodded a little serious. Not my favorite thing.

I hugged my knees to my chest and stared at the carpet. "Why do I get the feeling that this is more complicated than just some things coming up?"

He had his hand resting heavy on my hair. "Because it is."

I nodded, chin on my knees. "He's a General."

"Yeah," said Dad.

"At twenty-one?" I said.

I knew the answer to this one. I knew full well why Maes had been promoted. The way Uncle Ed's eyes flicked to meet my dad's for a pained moment, though, said my filter was working.

I pressed on. "We've been trying to contact you, Daddy."

Silence.

"Me and Sophie," I said. "We can't get ahold of Maes and you keep avoiding our calls. We know you're doing it on purpose."

He paused. "Yeah."

I hugged my legs like I needed comfort or something. "You came here for Uncle Ed and Uncle Al. You weren't looking for Nina-time. Sophie and I showing up was an accident, am I right? You were going to leave soon. You never even took your coat off."

Dad shifted to meet my eyes all sad and hurt. "Hey, now. It's not like that. Remember? Things have gotten complicated."

I took a breath. I could practically feel my dad's feelings of confliction pivoting from State troubles and onto me. Good. I watched him loosen his coat from his shoulders. He didn't take it all the way off, but, whether consciously or otherwise, Dad had been affected by my comment that his leaving his coat on implied a desire to avoid me. I'd successfully helped him make the decision to stay and to include me to some degree.

"I need Maes home," I said. I let my eyes sink and allowed air into my voice to play up the helpless side of me, a side that already existed so was way more convincing when enhanced than faking completely. "I hate this."

"What's wrong?" Dad said, cutting right to the chase.

I could hear the worry in his tone, the hint of urgency that told me my efforts to inspire protective instincts with my wielded demeanor had done the trick. It seemed to do the trick beyond just him. The opposing couch rustled with Uncle Al's weight shifting forward and Uncle Ed looked at Sophie like maybe she might know something. She honestly looked like I might be a little too convincing and she wasn't sure I was filtering and she was ready to swoop in and rescue me.

"Nina?" she said.

I rocked my head into my hand and spent a split moment recalling an old memory of Ten screaming all night after getting his arm broken through his skin by a frustrated researcher. I let the memory end in a blink, lasting just long enough to trigger believable tears. I sniffled and soon felt the warmth of my daddy's hand on my back.

"What is it?" he whispered.

His voice was that soothing way he used to get when he'd talk me down from nightmares, which meant he was exactly where I wanted him. I gave into a sob.

"God, it's so white!" I said. "The snow, the clouds, the entire flipping Command Center! It's just so white!"

Dad's hand slid to my shoulder and held me with a steady grip that said it all. I was bringing him back to those eight weeks; those eight weeks he'd watched me lose my mind in that white prison. The more his grip tightened, the steadier he held me, the more I knew he was feeling it all over again. Cruel, but very convenient for the agenda I had in mind.

"This damn weather," I sniffed. "Makes my joints ache and it's like he's got his sword going through me all over again. I can't make it stop!" Not a total lie. I was drawing from previous truths, just truths that weren't necessarily as recent as I was implying.

"Hey, it's okay," Dad said. "You can't let it scare you when you lose control. That only makes it worse, doesn't it?"

He was practically reciting his old words of comfort down to the letter. I had him now. I caught a glimpse of the Elric's' expressions and confirmed I had them too. Even Sophie looked worried beyond pretending.

"You idiots," I said. "Can't you see what's happening? A conflict in a foreign country arises that calls for my alchemy but could put me at risk, so Maes goes to extremes to take me out of the spotlight and puts himself there instead."

Uncle Ed was pale in a sickly way that told me he was remembering. Dad's hand had become firm enough on my shoulder to assure me. I went in for the kill.

"Take the freaking shades off your eyes!" I said. I looked out at them teary and desperate. "It's happening all over again! Maes is going to smile like he has it all together while I sit and wait in this white prison knowing he's out there trying to be me! Only difference this time is he's dragging inexperienced soldiers and family members who deserve a little peace down with him for the sake of preventing the risk of me crashing and burning all over again. We're not dealing with Xing this time, boys. No one's going to go out of their way to back Maes and his team up if you send them over the border, and if you keep leaving me out," I glared, "no one's going to be there to smooth it over when they can't fake it anymore. Don't you ever forget just who ended up saving the day in Xing, and I did it with only a fraction of sanity on my side. If you had done things your way, we would've died. You owe me your lives and I don't owe you a damn thing besides the strength I gained from learning to persevere in the face of being lied to and underestimated by every available source of trust within range."

I looked at my dad, eyes narrowed. He seemed to flinch away from me without meaning to. His usual expertly contained expression had fallen into some kind of horror and disbelief.

"How," he said, "how did you know?" He frowned. "Who told you about the team we're sending?"

Sending a team over the border. Confirmed.

"Maes. Duh," I said. Because his sloppy efforts to cover it up had been all I needed to figure it out.

"No," said Uncle Ed. "She's lying. Maes is the last person who'd include her in this."

Uncle Ed not only involved but possibly a member of said team. Clearly holds authority in the matter to some degree.

"Seriously?" I said with an arched brow Uncle Ed's way. "Maes was smart enough to know he wouldn't be able to throw me off what was really going on unless he threw me a legit bone. He doesn't care about what's classified. He just wants me as far away from the foreign alchemy as he can get me."

"Calm down, Fullmetal," said Dad. "Riza mentioned a week ago that Maes had been leaking select information to keep Nina happy."

Mom had known all along that Maes had told me about the foreign relations part to keep me off the alchemy part. Dad now spoke about it to Uncle Ed as common sense. It had been expected from the beginning that I would try to get involved. Very likely that precautions had been made in advance to keep me in the dark against my will.

"How'd she know about the foreign alchemy?" said Uncle Ed, still in a mood.

The foreign alchemy. I'd said it earlier in that structure as part of my dialect. Uncle Ed's common speech, however, altered the meaning from, 'alchemy _in_ a foreign land,' to, 'alchemy _from_ a foreign land.' Likely a land not formerly specialized in alchemy, in that case. Possibly one that aspired to be. More than likely desired alchemic power to counter State Alchemists, which meant unfriendly past relations but dormant due to Amestris's clear advantage.

That complicated things. My dad and his government had made friends with too many places. Who the heck would be stupid enough to go against an ally as strong, not to mention loyal, as Amestris?

"Nina?" said Uncle Ed with a frown. "Who told you?"

"I figured it out," I said. I pointed to Sophie. "Ask her. I seriously figured it out in one stinking night, and it's really not that impressive considering how obvious you guys have been. I mean, you've been gathering specialists, for gosh sakes. Uncle Al, Sophie, Aunt Mei, Grandma, blah, blah, blah. Do I need to go on?" I smiled, made sure to contort it in that bitter way like I was mocking him. "It's disgusting," I said. I looked at my dad. "How blind you can be when you only concentrate on one thing. Look what you've done. You played this whole game off the fact that I never asked questions when I was little. You're taking advantage of the fact that guys in white lab coats beat the fight out of me. You think that makes me stupid or something?"

Dad looked at me for a while, just stared. Gradually, his face melted into a smile that was a little amused. He put his hand on my head. I tried not to be too obvious about freezing. Dad raised his eyebrows.

"So," he said. "Are you done?"

I swallowed. His eyes. Dang. His smile! He looked…proud.

He cracked a grin. "Damn. You really had me there for a minute. Been a while since I've been so cooperative during an interrogation."

I immediately frowned. "Screw off, monkey ears."

Dad laughed, because I was, like, the only person who could get away with making fun of his monkey ears. Uncle Al laughed and shut up quick when my dad looked at him, because I was, like, the only person who could get away with making fun of his monkey ears. Sophie laughed and kept laughing when my dad looked at her, because I was, like, the only person who could get away with making fun of his monkey ears. Uncle Ed just sank into this very much exasperated slouch and shook his head like, 'Oh, hell no.'

"Interrogation?" he said. "Seriously?"

I puffed out a long breath and let myself smile a little. "Yeah. Interrogation."

Uncle Ed shot Sophie a frown. "Interrogation?"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Would you have told us if we'd asked?"

"Wait," said Uncle Al. "I'm not sure I understand. We were being interrogated? Did I lose?"

Dad and I laughed at the same time.

"Lose, Alphonse?" said Dad.

Uncle Al seemed to get all self-conscious. "Oh, well, I guess I was just wondering if I accidentally said too much, now that it's come to light that that was what the girls were going for."

Sophie waved her hands defensively. "Don't go lumping me in with Nina. She's the mastermind. I just went along with her period tactics, and I wasn't even lying."

"Thanks for that, Sophie," said Uncle Ed.

"But, really," Uncle Al pressed. "I have to know. Did I give anything away? I mean, I barely said anything. I don't see how any of it could've been considered leaking information."

He was so cute! Overthinking it to heck completely oblivious to how stupid of an interrogator I'd have to be to ever actually admit how much I currently did and did not know. Dad soon said as much with a proud smile my way.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it, Al," he said. "Nina's not going to tell you whether you were helpful or not. She knows better."

Uncle Ed leaned back in his seat and looked to the side kind of pissed. "I question your parenting methods frequently, Mustang."

"Yeah, we've established that," said Dad all light and teasing.

Uncle Ed looked back at him. "I'm serious this time. That was a pretty intense conversation we had just now to be dismissed as Nina's interrogation style." He looked at me. "What you said about Maes. That wasn't funny, kiddo."

"Ed…" Uncle Al said quiet.

I folded my arms. "No, it wasn't funny. It wasn't funny three years ago and it sure as hell hasn't gotten any funnier since. Don't kid yourself, Uncle Fullmetal. I didn't ask fake questions to weasel answers out of you three. I stated the hard truth and took advantage of your flustered reactions."

Dad touched my arm the way he did when he wanted me to quit while I was ahead.

Uncle Ed narrowed his eyes at me. "I don't appreciate having my emotions screwed around with for the sake of your advantage, kid."

I let out a laugh. I laughed again. I hugged my stomach and giggled, letting myself fall back on the couch. Sophie looked worried.

"Wait, really?" I cackled. "You don't like folks screwing with your issues to their advantages?" I grabbed my dad's hand. "Hear that, Daddy? Uncle Ed doesn't like people screwing with him!"

"Nina…"

I stood, hands on hips like the sassy mama I was. "Oh, cry me a freaking river, you little whiner. You don't like being handled? Welcome to the club! There is an alchemic conflict going on in a foreign country and my husband has taken it upon himself to lead an effort to keep the State's most qualified alchemist—cough, me—out of the fight. You think I was kidding about being a little on the freaked out side that Maes is pretty much repeating history by leaving me out of a battle only I can fight? You want to hear something really funny, the funniest thing you'll hear all day without a doubt? It's the fact that you actually think you have room to talk." I let my arms hang at my sides. "See? Funny. Ha. Ha. Ha."

Uncle Ed kept his narrowed eyes on me for a moment and I could just sense the retaliation coming. Then Uncle Ed's eyes went from narrow and angry to extremely serious and way calm. I realized in that moment that he hadn't been particularly angry at me. Maybe just frustrated about something. It was an unexpected shift and it made my arms feel goose-bumpy. Before I knew it, Uncle Ed was addressing my dad, placing me on the sidelines of the conversation.

"Mustang," he said softly. "Just tell her. This could go wrong fast."

I thought about agreeing with Uncle Ed's motion immediately, but the way my dad sat up just a little more and looked a little alerted and frightened at the words made me keep my mouth shut. There was a moment of quiet where my dad and Uncle Ed held eye contact with each other and neither of them looked particularly happy with how things were going down.

"She can handle it, Roy," said Uncle Al.

Dad kept his stare on Uncle Ed. "That's really easy for you to say. You realize that, right, Al?"

"Yes," said Uncle Al, unfazed. "But it's probably the closest thing you'll get to an informed, unbiased opinion in this room right now. Just tell her." Dad gave him a glare, but Uncle Al just met it with a steadfast gaze that was almost more intimidating in its sincerity. "Tell her, Roy. Because it needs to come from you."

Dad hung his head. It wasn't defeat. It wasn't willing surrender. It wasn't even tiredness that had him slouched with his eyes down. The way he'd tucked his chin to hide behind his collar and his bangs drooping over his eyes, it was like he didn't want me to see what his face looked like. I bit my lips together. I'd pushed a button, a serious button. This was more than Nina pressing a matter that wasn't in her best interest. He looked so…

"Hey, never mind it," I blurted. I grabbed his hands tight, old words I'd thought I'd given up spilling out of me like a broken dam. "It's okay, Daddy. I trust you. I don't have to know. I don't mind. I'm being ungrateful. Just forget it, okay? Okay, Daddy? Okay?"

He met my eyes with this odd disapproval that wasn't directed at anyone in proximity, a kind of hurt that was familiar to me. It was the agony he held in his creased brow and the slight gape in his mouth. The last time I'd seen it had been a few months ago when he and Mom had come over for lunch and I'd asked Mom if I was allowed to take a sip from my glass. It wasn't like I'd even realized I was doing it, but it still hit Dad hard that I was yet to get out of that old habit.

"Baby," said Dad, "why'd you say that?"

I found myself hugging my arms like I didn't want my vulnerable places exposed. I felt a tinge of self-loathing for letting myself remember that night with Ten all for the sake of believable tears, because now I was having some trouble blocking it all the way out. He's in a better place, Nina. All that pain and junk's long over and he's someplace pretty and green that smells like clover flowers and grass after rain.

Dad spoke soft like he was talking to a scared animal. "Nina?"

I looked away. "You had that look. You know, the one you get right before Mom has to talk you down. But she's not here."

Dad let out a breath so harsh that I felt it blow on my skin from where I sat beside him. Made me jolt, look up at him all wary. He leaned away a little, eyes apologetic like he figured he'd scared me.

"You're right, Ed," Dad muttered.

There was another moment of quiet.

Uncle Al folded his arms. "And?"

Dad smiled thinly. "You're right too, Al." He looked back at me and said softly, "I need to make a quick call."

"I'm going to remember you said quick," I said.

Uncle Ed pointed back with his thumb. "Phone's in the kitchen."

Dad left me behind. I scooted on the couch so I was closer to the door so maybe I'd hear some of what he'd say.

"You trying to eavesdrop?" said Uncle Al like he didn't know he asking something obvious.

"Yeah," I said. "Shush. It doesn't work if you talk over it."

Uncle Ed arched a brow at me. "You sure you should be—"

"Shush!" I said. "I do it all the time. Don't even worry about it. If he wanted to keep the conversation that private, he would've closed the door behind him."

"…Give me Lt. Colonel Hawkeye," Dad said from the other room. "No, I need her now." He paused. "Thanks."

"What'd he say?" Sophie hissed. "I didn't catch that."

"He asked for my mom," I said.

"Wait, who'd he ask?" said Sophie.

"The receptionist. Duh."

"So, you're mom's still at work?"

"Yes," I said. "Shut up."

Dad was speaking again. "…No, Riza, nothing like that. She didn't even know we were here. Like I said. She came for Winry, but she…"

"I didn't hear that," said Sophie.

"Shut it!" I said. "I'll tell you later."

Sophie pouted. "Whatevs."

"…I don't care what you're in the middle of," Dad continued from the kitchen. "I can't just tell her without you here…" He paused. "Because I can't." Another pause. "Well, have you been able to reach Maes?" Pause. "Then tell him to get his ass home! We don't have time for this." Long pause filled with utter silence besides Dad's long, final sigh. "Yeah, fine. I get it. Get back to the meeting. I'll figure something out."

The phone met the receiver with a clink. I slid back to my end of the couch and melted back into a relaxed-ish position like I totally hadn't been eavesdropping. Uncle Ed chuckled into his hand. Uncle Al just looked away like he'd witnessed something naughty but was hesitant to be the tattletale in the group.

Sophie leaned forward and whispered, "So? What'd he say? Are we going to war or something?"

I heard Dad's shoes walking across the hall and I stuck my finger to my lips to hush Sophie up. Dad came into the doorway and the first thing out of his mouth, incidentally, was, "Sophie, could you give us a minute?"

Sophie looked up at him and blinked. "You kidding me?"

Dad didn't flinch. "No."

She looked over at me. The way she was gazing seemed to be like a silent question more than anything. Did I want her to stay? Well, I did.

"Go, Sophie," I said. "It's okay."

She nodded and got up.

"Al?" said Uncle Ed.

Uncle Al nodded and got up with Sophie. "Yeah, my niece and I have some catching up to do. It's been a while. Pardon me."

As the two left, I heard Sophie ask, "Are you making sure I don't eavesdrop?"

Uncle Al answered, "Nina tends to get overwhelmed with too much stimuli. It's probably better that there are less people in the room right now."

I snorted to myself. "Nina precautions. Perfect."

"Hey," said Uncle Ed. He met my eyes. "If you need to be alone with your dad, you just tell me, okay?"

I nodded. "Um, deal."

Uncle Ed moved his attention to my dad. "So, you going to tell her?"

Dad ran his hand over his face, breathing deeply. He nodded. He exhaled. "Look, Nina, it's true we've been keeping you in the dark about a lot of this for your own protection, but it's not for the reasons you're thinking." He smiled a little. "I'm proud of you for figuring out so much on your own, but you've got too much of the story wrong to go uncorrected. So, just listen. No interrogating. No assuming. Just hear me out and trust that it's the truth this time. Can you do that?"

I felt myself go still, like my body knew to be serious. "Yeah. I can do that."

Dad nodded. "Alright. I suppose the first thing you should know is that the military's problem at hand isn't actually a conflict with another country, though that was a good guess. As you know, during the past few decades, Amestris has developed relationships with multiple neighboring countries and, as a current superpower, Amestris has often been the first to be called upon when another country is in need of assistance. Well, a little over a month ago, I received word from the Prime Minister of Drachma that there seemed to be some disturbances up north within Drachman borders."

"Disturbances?" I said.

"Yes," said Dad. "The Drachman government tends to be relatively tight-lipped about their internal issues, so the Prime Minister didn't go into too much detail. He simply stated that there had been some scattered incidents that looked like they might've been initiated by some kind of illegal organization and he wanted me to have the soldiers at Briggs relay any reports of odd occurrences at the border that might suggest terrorist activity."

"Extremists?" I groaned. "My favorite."

"That's what it looked like at the time," said Uncle Ed, reminding us he was there. "There's more, Nina."

"Last week," said Dad, "I got another call. The Prime Minister was a lot more specific about Drachma's situation this time as things had apparently stemmed beyond what he believed his country could counter on its own, and we're not talking militaristic. He said the incidents of so-called terrorism had actually been more along the lines of mass kidnappings of citizens aging from infancy to about five years, and similar incidents have been going on in spurts for the past three years. It's been a longtime nationwide pattern of child disappearances systematically from orphanages or off the streets. They're targeting children without parents or family to pressure the government to make efforts to recover them; a perfect method to ensure the abductions didn't attract lasting attention." Dad frowned. "Which is exactly the opposite of what the average terrorist is going for."

My stomach clenched. "Infancy to five years?" I sucked my lip. "That sounds kind of more like child trafficking."

"That's a logical enough assumption," said Uncle Ed. "But why would they be taking infants, in that case? Why would they leave behind the older children and only go for the little ones who can't even take care of themselves yet? It seems too inconvenient for child traffickers to go through the trouble of raising and potty-training their slaves before they're ready to sell."

"Then," I said, "what?"

Dad put his arm around my shoulders. I could tell by the way he met my eyes that he was making himself do it. He didn't want to look directly at me. I huddled deeper against him. His arm tightened, hugged me strong and protective.

"Last week," said Dad, "some officers from Drachma's military police force stumbled upon an abandoned building near their eastern border. One of the officers heard noise coming from under the floor. They were able to enter the basement of the building." He stopped. He was really fighting to keep composure. I could tell. He took a breath. "They found five bodies in that basement. Children. Abused, neglected, and…autopsies show signs of…" He stopped again. "They'd been experimented on, Nina."

My stomach flopped. I broke his hard-earned eye contact and hunched over on myself, breathing in a gasp.

"Experiments?" I said. "Like alchemy?"

Dad held me tighter. "We don't know. The only physical traces were along the lines of experimental drugs in their systems and incisions from—"

"Dammit, Dad! I know where they're from!" I grabbed my hair in fists. "That's what this is? That's it? This is what you didn't want to tell me? Because now I really get it, you know? It's them, isn't it? You think it's them. Those guys in the coats who," I shuddered once and it was like I couldn't stop, "who broke Ten's arm right through his skin and made him scream all night without any water, so…" Oh, man. This was bad. "That's it, isn't it? You think it's them?"

Uncle Ed started, "We don't know—"

"But we destroyed them!" I said. "We did! Remember, Dad? Mommy took fire alchemy away and so their program got shut down because their research for fire alchemy got all ruined and impossible and stuff."

"That research was government funded at the time," said Dad. "They got shut down by their sponsors, Nina. But it's possible some of the researchers decided to continue their methods without the Drachman government's knowledge."

"No, that's over," I said. "It's been too long. It's not them. It's some extremists doing some different research on kids that just looks like what happened to me. Copycats, okay? Okay?"

For a moment, Dad just held me while we all waited for it to sink in. I gasped and panted and kept grabbing my hair and shaking my head like I had no choice. Screw this. Screw it! Screw them all!

"Nina," said Dad. "One of the children was still alive at the site when the officers found her."

I let out a sob.

"Before they lost her," said Dad, "she asked for _Thirty-eight_."

"Thirty-eight?" I said. Like a name? I felt my face crumple and I started crying so hard it hurt. "Oh, God!"

"We're not going to war, Nina," said Uncle Ed. "Maes isn't in danger. He's been elected by the higher-ups to lead an investigation. That's all. The promotion enables him to freely discuss classified information with the people he'll be working with. He's just gathering minds he can trust right now. He wants to do this right, kiddo."

"Right," said Dad. "We all do. We're going to end it for real this time."

My body shook and trembled so violently I had to tell myself not to vomit multiple times in my head. I hid in my hands and sputtered. "Am I going to be involved in this thing?"

Silence.

I peeked through my fingers. It was awful. Uncle Ed and my dad both. They looked so ashamed of themselves they could die. That was it.

"All this time you've been avoiding my calls," I said. "You were trying to figure out how to sugar coat the fact that…you need me for this."

Dad hugged me with both arms. I burrowed into his chest, his warm uniform.

"Your mom was against it from the beginning," he said. "She's in a meeting right now trying to limit your involvement. It won't be hard to take you out of the investigation entirely. The military knows next to nothing about your past and that's something they don't ever need to know. Just say the word. This doesn't have to be your fight."

"Mom was against it?" I held tighter. "What about you?"

"I think," he said, "that you know your limits better than I do."

I breathed against him, gradually, slowly, calming. This didn't have to be my fight? That was so true. I'd won my fight, hadn't I? We'd won. The thirty of us. We'd crossed our finish line. No one deserved a break more.

_That's silly, Twenty-one._

That's what Nine would've said.

Silly.

I was being silly.

Five children had died together in an abandoned basement, five children forgotten by society and then used as materials by men and women who should've been protecting them. They were children like we'd been, children like Ten, who'd taken the beatings harder because he was one of the youngest. Children like Nine, who'd been denied food for days at a time because she was too traumatized to cooperate during evaluations. Children like Eighteen, who'd looked after the littler ones like me but ended up being left to die when he went too long without showing any results or progress from the experiments he'd endured.

No. They weren't like us. They _were_ us. They were stragglers. They were babies who needed names that weren't numbers and plates stacked with burnt toast. They were people who'd died before they could be told they weren't trash, they weren't bitches, they weren't objects. They were loved.

And Thirty-eight could still be out there.

I drew away from my dad and ran the back of my fist over my face to get rid of tears and snot.

"Nina?" he said.

"I'm okay," I said. "You were right, Dad."

"Oh?"

I nodded. "Absolutely. I know what I've got to do. Just promise me something?"

"Anything." He sounded way sincere.

I looked down at my palms, my fingertips, the scars where my fingers had ignited themselves in my sleep. "When we arrest the researchers who hurt me and my friends," I swallowed, "before you have those bastards executed, give me half an hour with them to make them wish they were dead."

* * *

**Evil!Nina is my new best friend.**

**Don't worry, Maes fans! He'll be back in all his glory next chapter ;)**

REPLIES!

RainFlame: Haha! Love them equally and without bias; it's like they're your children or the kids in a class you teach XD

Madje Knotts: Heck yeah it's going in the Roybecca drabbles!

author12036: George is cuteness in a to-go box.

mixmax300: Oh, yeah, tattoos apparently itch to heck. I was going to get one, and then I found out how much of a pain it was while they healed and I was like, "No."

Evarria: Poor Mike. Some people just can't handle the Nina Effect.

Firaga Productions: Frank's a friggin badass. He's what makes the team go from 'eclectic' to 'cool.'

KTrevo: Yep, even Olga has a little backstory :D

Harryswoman: Put the Fuery boys next to each other and I think I might die of maternal instincts.

kingkill67: Thanks! Been typing my little fingers off!

Guest221b: Wow, thanks! Nina's become a favorite POV of mine too. She's fun no matter what she's saying/thinking/doing.

**Wow, guys! I loved the results of last challenge! All your faves were so varied and your reasons too! To be honest, I can't really pick a favorite, but since no one picked Mikey (except RainFlame-ish?), I'll say he's my favorite for now. Because he's cool enough until Nina makes him uncomfortable and that's just too funny considering how tiny she is compared to him. Plus, he was the one member of the team mentioned in the FL epilogue, if anyone remembers.**

**CHALLENGE: This summer marks Flame Legacy's one year anniversary! Tell me one of your favorite moments, conversations, or maybe a chapter that got you really emotional. What scene had you reeling? (not including OVA's this time)**


	8. Eyes Open

**A/N: Okay. It's officially been nearly three months since the most recent update of 'Accident Baby' was posted. I'm about ready to pull my hair out. Not really. I've worked too hard on this mullet to yank it out and start over. Anyway! I am so glad I decided not to wait until AB was done to put up FL2. Seriously, if AB hadn't been put on forced hiatus, FL2 wouldn't have happened, so blessings in disguise, am I right?**

**Um, life's been happening to me a lot lately, so, sorry about infrequent posts, but they happen. Thanks for the continued feedback! Oh my dang, you're great :D**

**Edit: After a lot of thought, I moved the rating up to 'M' because of thematic elements that I consider pretty heavy and possibly beyond this site's definition of 'T'. No graphic sex or F-bombings. Just heavier stuff than my other fics so far.**

**Shorter chapter. Packed with goodness. Read on, folks!**

* * *

Chapter Eight: Eyes Open

I stared down at the pinky tattoo at the center of my chest. I'd wanted it directly over my heart, which would've been a little more to the left, but Sophie had said it would throw off the balance of the matrixes on my wrists if I had a third array tattooed all asymmetrical on my body. Whatever. It wasn't even two weeks old yet, but the preliminary healing was almost done. I mean, it was tender, but the initial risk of infection was decreasing rapidly and that was good enough for me.

I pulled a black turtleneck over my head before layering it with the rest of my uniform, knowing I'd still get cold outside. It was Wednesday, three days since my Dad had told me about the children in the basement, two days since I'd spilled the news to Sophie, the day after the nature of the situation had been made vaguely public around HQ, and the first day since talking to my dad that I was ready to go back into work. I wasn't exactly looking forward to it, but I wasn't exactly dreading it either. Sure, every soldier from private to general would be buzzing about suspicious activity in Drachma, but it wasn't like they'd be looking at me. My mom had spent almost two weeks now just shadowing meetings and making sure my link to this 'illegal organization' remained unknown. She and Dad hadn't even told Grumman my details back when he was still in power. No worries.

I stepped into my boots on my way out of the front door. Sophie followed in silence, buttoning her half-jacket in the cold air like it wasn't pointless doing that with her stomach still completely exposed. She was being quiet for my sake. Her first instinct upon hearing me spill about the children found in Drachma had been to grab me, curse Maes for being gone, and proceed to list all the God-awful crap she planned on doing to the bastards who'd hurt me and all those other children once she got her hands on them. I'd simply informed her after her tirade that her version of 'God-awful' was child's play compared to what they'd done to us. I asked her not to talk about it again until she could come up with something more imaginative.

Seriously. I was open to suggestions.

Sophie and I walked down the halls of HQ arm-in-arm. Yes, it was certainly for comfort, but even more so it was so we didn't stand a chance of getting separated. For the first time in my three years of working in this giant building, the research wing was packed with people. From what I could tell, most were low ranking officers going by with files and junk, so I was thinking the bulk of the crowd had to be messengers. Occasionally, I'd catch some researchers crossing from their room to the room of another team. That didn't usually happen much. Teams liked to keep their progress to themselves. Otherwise, you risked losing credit for a breakthrough at recertification. Sophie got sick of minding the bustle and eventually started shoving through the crowd.

"Good God," she grumbled as she pulled me through with her. "There have got to be more people jammed in this hallway than in my entire hometown. I miss Risembool."

"You miss partying," I said.

She rolled her eyes. "I miss things not being screwed to hell."

I felt an ache watching her walk so heavy. Her eyes were dulled like she was disappointed about something. This was Sophie Elric. She was the small-town girl with a dying brother and then a dying daddy to go along with it. She'd hated herself for being the healthy one half the time. The other half of the time, she'd felt responsible for what had happened to her dad and blamed herself for being unable to reverse it. She'd lived with that. She'd lived just waiting to be left behind. That was over now. In my opinion, Sophie deserved a break. Instead, she was getting…Nina drama. Altogether not fair.

"I'm coming with you," she said. "To Drachma, I mean. I've decided I'm coming with you."

"Oh," I said. I hadn't exactly thought as far as her _not_ coming.

Sophie smiled. "Not to say that was ever really up in the air. I'm just making my formal announcement."

My mouth tugged into a grin. "Oh."

"Hey!" said Sophie. "I got a smile out of you! I get points for that."

I laughed. "You sound like your brother."

"How do you know he doesn't sound like me?"

I was going to say something snappy right back, but then a new voice cut in, one irritatingly familiar.

"Hey, Mustang," greeted Captain Law with one of those stupid 'smooth' smiles. "You brought the blonde again. Very nice."

Sophie's eyes narrowed. She and I had to stop short in our tracks. Captain Law and Captain Stewart, the dynamic duo of hallway catcallers, were planted right in our way. They were smiling like a couple neglected puppies who'd just been called out to play fetch. As disrespectful and inappropriate they acted, I kind of enjoyed this little routine when Maes was around to get twitchy over it. With Maes gone, though, Law and Stewart just qualified as jerks.

"Can I file for harassment yet?" Sophie hissed to me.

"Just ignore them," I hissed back. "We've got bigger things to do."

"Could you speak up?" said Captain Stewart, scratching his brown hair pretty oblivious. "I didn't catch that."

Sophie stood tall with a hand on her hip, thumb playing with the belt loop of her black leather pants. "I was asking Nina if I could file for harassment yet." She glared. "Did you catch that?"

Law and Stewart stopped smiling.

"Did you," said Sophie, "catch that?"

I shot her a frown. Those guys were some of the only chumps in the military besides me and Uncle Ed who understood the true meaning of slacking off. Did she really have to be so mean?

We passed Law and Stewart and they passed us. That was it then. Their wary looks said it all. They were totally going to go back to their offices to work like good soldiers. I pulled away from Sophie's arms and stopped again, this time at the drinking fountains where we wouldn't get as much in the way.

"They were harmless, Sophie," I said with my eyes glaring down.

She ducked close to me, toe to toe. I watched our boots. Hers looked a lot like my military issued ones except a lot sexier with their more slender design and long zippers at the backs of her toned calves. Her rounded toe scuffed against the floor.

"So what?" she said low. "It's freaking annoying."

"It's what they do," I said. "They've been doing it since I got here. They're part of Knox's team and Knox's team is our biggest rival. Every one of them gives us a hard time. It's what we do."

"They hit on you!" said Sophie. "You're married! To my brother! And their superior! Not okay!"

"Why do you think they hit on me?" I said. "They wouldn't do it if they were serious. It's supposed to be an insult. Maes would've filed the complaint himself if they were crossing lines. This is just how we do things. Don't get hateful at them like that. You probably really scared them."

Sophie raised her eyebrows all sarcastic and nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

I frowned. "Problem?"

She returned the frown. "They're harmless? _Harmless_, Nina? That's your grand defense? At a time like this, you really want harmless? Dammit, I'd think you'd want a lot worse than that!"

I narrowed my eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean we're mobilizing!" She had her arms outstretched at her sides dramatically. "This floors packed with people handling scraps of a situation they don't know the half of and they still know to take it damn seriously! These are human lives at stake! These are kids! We're dealing with life and death and those bozos are wasting time making harmless moves on a superior officer? You've been through some evil shit, girl. They don't get to be harmless right now. They get to march right back to their team and figure out how to do some harm to the bastards that made you—"

That was enough. I shoved my elbow against her body and pushed her against the wall hard enough to get her attention. I got in her shocked face and spoke low.

"You're spitting out some pretty classified stuff there, baby-cakes. You want to tantrum? Do it like you're in a library." My eyes darted around. We were getting some looks from passers by, but no one seemed to be listening in. I let out a breath and raised my eyes back up to meet Sophie's. "Look, I get that it's hard knowing what you know and walking through a crowd of people who think a bad day is forgetting their umbrella in the rain, but the best you can do right now is get used to it. I spent my entire childhood keeping my mouth shut about this shit. You can bear it for one workday. I believe in you. If you can't, then go home. This _is_ serious. I'm going to do what I can to face it and I'm going to be happy for all the jerks who don't have to. We're soldiers. We fight so others don't have to see the stuff we see. Get that through your head and you'll be good as gold."

She looked away. "Do I look like a soldier to you?"

I felt my mouth curl. "Hell yeah."

She looked back at me. I backed up from her and she massaged her ribs like I might've slammed her against the wall harder than I'd thought. She smiled a little as we linked arms and started down the hall again.

"Fast reflexes," she said. "Where'd you learn to pin people like that? I thought you got waved from combat training because of your back."

"Sure," I said. "But I had to pass some serious self-defense requirements before I got to drop the bodyguard detail. Low-impact martial arts were offered at the rehabilitation center I went to for physical therapy and I already knew some basics from all the self-dense classes Dad made me take when he became Fuhrer. Like, I can beat up creepers in a hundred different ways or more."

Sophie shook her head. "Dude, I just go for the balls."

I hugged her arm and laughed. "That works too."

We stopped at the door, but I didn't go in right away. Phil had caught my eye from across the hall and he was making his way over. He was smiling, but there were worry lines denting that shiny forehead of his. He had folders under one arm and I wondered if he was coming over to say hi or if he'd actually been looking for me.

"Hey!" Sophie called. Phil stopped in front of us and she stepped forward to shake his hand. "I know you. You were at the wedding a couple years ago. You remember me?"

Phil chuckled, taking her hand. "Bridesmaid with the lip-ring? Hard to forget. How long are you in town?"

"It's complicated," said Sophie.

Phil's eyes softened with a hint of understanding. "Don't I know it." He looked at me. "You two hear about what happened?"

"Red level access," I said. "Both of us."

Well, technically Sophie wouldn't be red-level until she formally agreed on paper to be part of the team, but my dad had put me at red the afternoon after he'd told me the situation and I'd agreed to be involved.

Phil's eyes bugged in their sockets. Kind of humorous. "Red level? You're joking! She's not military, is she?"

"She's a hired consultant," I said. "She will be, at least. We've both been assigned to the investigation team headed to Drachma sometime this week."

"Oh, that's right," said Phil. "General Elric was the one appointed to lead that. I heard he was handpicking his team. I just assumed they'd all be military."

I rolled my eyes to the side. "This is Maes we're talking about, Philly. Remember that time he bought me a muffin and made me pay for my own milk? Yeah, don't expect anything normal from him."

"You would know," said Phil with a smile.

Sophie stifled her laughter with her hand.

I put my hands in my pockets. "So, what level clearance did they give you?"

Phil shrugged. "Still green. I'm just running errands to make up for all the officers held up in meetings." He looked to the side all grave. "It's disheartening. You live a couple decades in a peaceful country and you start forgetting there's still bad stuff going on elsewhere that you never hear about. Things have got to be rough for Drachma of all places to ask for help."

I nodded. "I'm glad they did. It would be a real shame if they kept trying to do everything themselves, you know?"

Phil smiled a little. "Well, it's not the first time we've had to come to the rescue."

"Nope. Not the first time," I said. "And it probably won't be the last, am I right? Ha, political humor."

The way Phil laughed, I could tell it was more because of me than because of my joke. He cleared his throat and looked down at the folders under his arm.

"I have to turn these in," he said.

I patted his arm. "Go forth. We'll see you around."

"Yeah," said Sophie. "See you around."

Phil gave us a little salute and went on his way. I sighed. I had a mental list of my own about who I figured should be cleared for this mission. Phil should've been on it. I liked him better than all of Knox's team combined, and I'd heard _all_ of them were coming to Drachma with us.

"I'm so okay with that guy," said Sophie. She arched a brow. "His daughters were a pain in the ass, but Phil? I'm totally okay with him."

"He's bald and likes Noodle Shack alfredo to-go," I said. "How can anyone not be okay with him?" I nodded at the door. "Come on, blondie. Time to face the music."

"What does that saying even mean?" said Sophie. She got the door for me and let me walk in ahead of her. "I mean, it has negative connotations, right? What's bad about music? Are we talking disco? Because then I totally get it."

I talked to her over my shoulder as she came in after me. "I like disco. It often comes with a sparkly ball and sweet moves included."

"Sweet moves?" Sophie laughed.

The room was kind of…full. Not like the hall. Not with people. The only person in the room that wasn't part of our team was Selim Bradley, and we still had some empty desks with Uncle Ed in meetings upstairs and Maes doing God knows what somewhere without handy phone access. What filled the room was more along the lines of furniture. It was similar to how my dad's office had been rearranged for that 'war meeting.' Tables had been brought in and layered over with maps and papers, though not nearly as organized-looking. The desks had been scooted as well to accommodate the mess of information. The phones and personal items like framed photos and paperweights had been stacked over Maes's desk that had been otherwise untouched. The light in the room was dim. The overhead lighting was turned off and the blinds dulled the grey daylight. There looked to be a sheet or something pinned up on the wall and Selim stood at the back wall working a slide-projector. Everyone was staring at the slides as Selim shone them big across the sheet. Everyone. Mike looked like he was going to be sick. With my bad habit of sneaking up, no one seemed to notice we'd entered until the stomp of Sophie's boots made us known. By then, it was too late.

"What's going on?" I screamed.

Across the tables everywhere were open files spilling with photographs of dark spaces splattered with blood and old needles. Angle after angle of the same rotting basement. And abandoned building. Five abandoned children, images hard to make out in the dim light but clear on the screen on the wall facing me.

A photograph taken from an autopsy. You could tell by the tag placed over her head. She was young and tiny, but not as young as I'd been. It showed her from head to toe and my eyes traced fiercely up her skinny body. I went by her scars like a trail to her sunken in face. Her face. The paleness that let her veins show through her skin, the untended cuts, the bruises left unhealed, the tightness of her emaciated flesh over her facial structure, were all secondary thoughts. The first thing you look for in the face of a dead child is peace. I found none. Dammit, her eyes hadn't even been closed for her!

That jagged scar in her arm. That was from being kicked around. The straight ones over her belly were too accurate to be from beatings. Those were surgical. They'd been done by doctors. They were from experiments. They'd been messing with her insides. I gripped my stomach. They'd been messing with her insides. Just like what'd happened to Eighteen when he stopped turning up results.

My stomach lurched and I gagged into my hand. I suddenly found myself on my knees, buckled over the recycling bin and shaking as I vomited cornflakes and milk over old newspapers. Sophie had my hair and was shouting at the others to put all that disturbing crap away. The lights turned on in a shock of brightness that made me squint. I rocked back to sit on my heels as my body recovered from puking, but the retching breaths didn't stop. They simply converted to unstable sobs. I covered my face with my hand. It didn't make a difference that they'd hid the pictures for me. I'd seen enough. I'd just seen that crap with my eyes. I'd forgotten what it was like to see it outside my mind. And now I couldn't turn it off.

"Oh, God, she had her eyes open," I said. I shook my head. "God, did you see her? She had them wide open!"

"Calm down, Nina," Selim said. I felt his warm hand on my shoulder to go with Sophie's already rubbing my back.

"Her little tummy," I said. I sobbed. "Her little bitty tummy."

"Hey," said Selim. "Deep breath. Don't freak out. Just think of something else."

I cried harder.

"Don't tell her what to do," snapped Sophie. "Leave her alone. It's your own damn fault for showing her that shit!"

I heard Frank saying something to someone about there was supposed to be someone guarding the door and they were lucky I'd been the one to walk in and not some secretary with yellow level clearance.

Sophie and Selim were kind of arguing now and I was starting to feel like I'd throw up again.

"Look, I've known Nina since we were children," said Selim. "I know how to calm her down when she gets like this."

"Like _this_?" said Sophie. "Do you even know what _this_ is?"

"I don't need to know," said Selim.

They carried on.

"Well, I'm just glad someone's finally reacting to this situation realistically," Mikey was saying to the others behind me.

"I'd break the skull of any guy who did that to one of my girls," Braddock's voice replied.

I heard knuckles popping as Olga said, "Olga will assist the Major in breaking these skulls."

"It really is horrible," George was saying with a watery voice.

I covered my ears. I shook my head and shrugged off Selim and Sophie's helping hands. I bit down on my lip and tried to shut it all out. Through sheer power of will, I _would_ be okay. I would! I had to be okay so I could break all those skulls before Braddock and Olga got to them first!

But the sound of the phone ringing got through to me.

My hands dropped from my ears as the ringing sounded off a second time. My eyes shot up to watch Frank pick up the phone at Maes's desk. For a heart-pounding moment, the room seemed very quiet. Frank's face dropped in shock and I watched his fingers tighten around the phone at his ear.

"Yes, General," he said. "She's right here, sir. However…" Frank gulped. "Yes, of course. Right away."

Frank met my eyes and I was already on my feet. I staggered over and ripped the phone out of his hand.

"Maes?" I said. "Maes?"

"Nina!" His voice was charged with relief. I swore I could hear train whistles in the background. "God, it's good to hear you. I just talked to your dad. He said…" Maes paused. "Are you crying?"

My chest broke into a sob. "They had it on the wall when I got in and she had her eyes open!"

"What?"

"It was pictures!" I said. "She died with her eyes open!"

"Wait." I heard Maes's breath in the receiver. "You saw?"

"Lines all over her little tummy," I said. "All over. They let her die! Who lets perfectly good material die?"

"Why'd they show you that? Uncle Roy just said a minute ago on the phone that he wasn't forcing visuals on you."

"I sneaked in by accident." I sniffled. "Again."

"Damn," he said. "Damn it, baby. Are you okay?"

"No." Really stupid question, but I could tell he was ambling from the turn of events.

"Yeah, of course you're not." He sighed, frustrated. "Sorry. That was a dumb thing for me to ask. Damn it. I'm sorry."

"She had her eyes open, Maes," I said. "No peace. Not a bit." I broke into another sob. "And the basement was covered in blood like a bad paint job!"

"I know, Nina," he said hurriedly. "We're going to figure it out. Take a breath. It'll be okay."

"No, it won't!" I sobbed. "They'll never be okay!"

"Nina."

"They won't!" I said.

"They will."

His voice was certain and commanding, enough to make my heart flutter. I cried into my hand. For a while, I just stood with the phone to my ear.

"Nina," he said. "I didn't sign up to lead something destined to fail. We'll end this. It'll be okay."

"Please," I croaked. "Come home."

I heard his breath in the receiver. "I'm…" he said, "I'm going to be in by tomorrow morning, actually."

My heart dropped. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he said. His voice was heavy with guilt. "I'm sorry. I honestly thought it'd be three days like I told you. I just kept getting calls telling me there was more to do. That's what I get for agreeing to the promotion, I guess."

"Calls?" I said. "You never answered any of mine."

"I know," he said. "Your dad told me you'd been calling Grandma's houseline. I'm sorry. We didn't stick around there much after I picked her up. They've been sending me on all kinds of errands, Nina. Not even the Fuhrer's office has been having much luck contacting me since I left. Just hang on, okay? I'm going to be there tomorrow and we'll talk about it."

"Picked her up?" I said. "Is Grandma coming here? Uncle Al and his family are here." I sniffled. "Lan Fan's gotten really big."

"I guess that's expected at that age," said Maes. "She having fun with my brothers?"

I shook my head. "Trisha, Jun, and Ming like your brothers. Lan Fan's jealous of not being the center of attention."

Maes chuckled halfheartedly. "Sounds about right." He sighed. "Listen, Nina?"

I waited.

"About your question," he said. "About Grandma? That's actually why I called your dad earlier. I've spent the past couple weeks selecting people for my investigation team and we're going to swing by Central to collect the rest of you tomorrow, but we can't stay very long."

I swallowed down panic. "You can't leave me."

"No, of course not. What kind of investigation team would I be leading without you on it, Major Gorgeous?"

I sniffed. "A stupid one."

"That's right," said Maes. "So, I was thinking; ideally, the entire investigation team should leave Central Station within an hour after I arrive with Grandma and the others, but that's only going by what the Drachman Prime Minister asked of me on the phone. I can delay the trip by a day or so if you need some downtime before we face this. You sound like you could use some downtime."

I gripped my flat stomach self-consciously. Downtime. Right. Because he had stuff to tell me for me to process. And I had stuff to tell him for him to process.

"No," I said. "I can't allow that. No delays, Maes. These are lives. We don't get to take breaks because our emotions get a little uncomfortable here and there. We can talk on the train. It's a long trip."

Silence.

"Maes?" I said.

"Are you sure?" he said.

"Positive."

"Okay," he said. "Well, your dad told me you'd probably say that, but I had to be certain. Fine, then. I guess we're really doing this."

"Yeah, guess so, General." I paused. "Hey, Maes?"

"Yeah?"

"You said the Fuhrer's Office was having trouble contacting you?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," I said. "Who's been sending you on all these errands? The Prime Minister or something?"

"Kind of," he said. "It's complicated. I'd rather talk about it when we have a minute."

"Now's not good?"

He didn't answer for a moment. "Um, I think my train's here. Is now okay to hang up?"

No!

"Yeah," I said.

"I'll see you in the morning, babe," he said.

I heard a train whistling in the background and I swore I could hear Grandma Izumi's muffled voice calling Maes's name among the station commotion. I sucked my lips, fought a break rising in my voice.

"Love you," I said.

"Love you too," he said. "Hang in there. I'll be with you in the morning."

"We'll sit next to each other?"

"Absolutely."

I sniffled. "Okay."

"Okay," he said. "Bye, Nina."

"Yeah, bye."

I hung up first because I was going to cry big time and he didn't need to miss his train home consoling me. Hot tears burbled down my face and I gritted my teeth to keep from sobbing hard enough to make me puke. As I sank against Maes's desk, a pair of big, cage-like arms came around me. I pushed my face into the blue uniform and cried all over his badges and stars.

"D-Daddy," I said.

"Major Philip Thomas heard a commotion from the room over," Dad said softly. "He had a feeling you needed me and called my receptionist."

In other words, Phil's Nina-senses had gone off. I buried my head in my dad's shoulder.

"It's going to be okay," he said. "You're okay, baby girl."

I clutched harder and cried.

I heard George whisper, "_Baby girl_? Did he just say that?"

Braddock whispered back, "Fuhrer's can be dads too."

But they had the right to be a little surprised. Dad hadn't treated me like his little girl in the workplace even once since I'd joined. It would've looked unprofessional and, as the Fuhrer, Dad was supposed to be the king of professionalism.

Dad patted my back. "You need to visit the clinic? Selim says you vomited."

I shook my head.

"You sure?" he said. "I'll take you there."

"Not sick," I said.

"You want to go see Mom?" he said. "I can pull her out of her meeting."

I nodded.

"She could probably use the break," he said.

I nodded.

"Come on." He patted my head. "Let's go up to her office. She's been meaning to talk to you."

I nodded.

He kept his hand on my back and guided me out with him. As we passed the others, he whispered something to Sophie about sticking around for the briefing with the others. Things were moving. I was about ready to puke again.

* * *

**What's that? I said Maes would be back in this chapter and all you got was a phone call cut short by a train? It was a darn emotional phone call, though. Plus, Selim and Sophie are now rivaling Nina-BFF's, so that gold should tide you over to next chapter.**

_Edit: Hey, guys! Almost forgot to mention this new fic I've been wanting to recommend. It's post Brotherhood and takes a really creative and unique spin on the series. I freaking love it and can't wait for more! Check it out if you feel so inspired ;) It's called 'Beyond Fullmetal: To Change the World,' by Silverleaf2157._

REPLIES!

RootlessGirl: Every time I do Daddy!Roy, I just want to do it again. So perfect!

Firaga Productions: Frank Effect. It is now a thing. Thanks for what you said. Yes. It took me rereading BBG/FL, but I realized the same thing. I was self-teaching, really finding my voice. Dang, once I got to that point, it was like I'd arrived. Writing's so much more of a joy now. Fanfiction started as my outlet, but it turned out to be one of the best tools I've had.

Artistic Fantasy: Elric angst touches the soul. Unfortunately for them, makes for a great emotional tool in fanfics.

SilverPedals1402: Oh, man, I know it! I need more Maes and Nina moments too!

Madje Knotts: Don't even worry about the PM. I'm late on so many things. And, yeah, Riza of all people should've been there.

mixmax300: Yep. Badass Nina is back and this time she's not crazy enough to be manipulated. Well, she's not psychotic this time, at least.

RainFlame: Aw! What age(s) do you teach? And, yes! I loved writing crazy!Nina. It was so...natural.

Harryswoman: Nina needs to talk to Scar. "Wait, you killed your victims? Without torturing them first? Have you no pride? Disgusting."

DanniMaeAnime92: Yeah, I liked the part when Phil was helping Maes pick out what pastry to get at Nina's bakery-of-choice XD

author12306: When Nina goes nutsy, things get accomplished. All I'm saying.

pitstop96: Maes would get all teary and innocent and probably mope for the rest of the day about his little sister hating him.

KTrevo: Oh, man. I was so aware I needed it XP Um, FL ruined my life that summer too. Daily updates? A hundred chapters? *trembles*

Evarria: Maes is just too sensitive to pick on and yet I do it on a regular basis. Poor baby. Crappy beginnings make for happier endings in contrast?

**CHALLENGE: Read Accident Baby? Did it deepen what you got from FL? Like, writing Nina as a toddler all traumatized and Roy being all attentive made me so sad looking back at Roy's reaction in FL after her nearly smacked her. And with all the Roy/Ed bromance in AB, it sucked that they'd ostracized each other when Maes was two. So much character development. So much crappy foreshadowing.**


	9. The Talk

**A/N: I wrote chapter nine like a tornado then realized that its word count was just a few pages short of the finale of Flame Legacy. That's really long, folks. So I divided it. Had to be done. Thus, chapter nine no longer contains Maes like promised. He's been moved to ten, which will be posted July 3rd. Be on the lookout! It'll be there!**

**Since I'm posting chapters nine and ten so close to each other, I won't be replying to reviews from last chapter until my update on July 3rd. No 'CHALLENGE' this time either. Just enjoy the chapter. It's golden and so is the next one coming soon :)**

* * *

Chapter Nine: The Talk

_Flashback ten years ago:_

"Alright," said Ms. Branch tightly. "Thank you, Lyle, for that…interesting adaptation of your family's timeline. Go on and take your seat."

I gulped as Lyle gathered up his poster all proud and victorious and made it back to his seat. My hands were folded up on my lap, holding hard enough to hurt. Couldn't help it. I was no good with these thingies.

Ms. Branch checked her clipboard like she actually hadn't realized that I was up next. Everyone knew I was up next. I was Nina Mustang about to stand up and present a timeline on my family. That was juicy stuff considering my father was the Fuhrer and he was married to a subordinate.

"Ah, Miss Mustang," said Ms. Branch with a smile my way. "You're next. Why don't you come up to the front?"

Because every one of my solo class presentations this year have been nothing short of a train wreck?

I scooted out of my seat and gathered up my poster from my desk. This wasn't like the other times, right? I had my visual aid all done up nicely, so I could just rely on that and not even look at people for the most part. Calm down, Nina. You know these people. They decently like you. They're probably barely paying attention anyway, right?

Oh, God. I looked. They were definitely paying attention. Damn it! Just something about a bunch of people studying me and taking notes on the results of my projects in a closed environment never sat well with me. It was like I was on exhibit or something and everyone was expecting something a lot bigger than I had to offer.

Ms. Branch helped me set my long orange poster against the stand she'd set up. I caught her eyeing some of the photos I'd pasted. I took a breath, preparing for the inevitable.

"Okay, Nina," said Ms. Branch. Then, the inevitable. "Why don't you begin?"

Why do you keep phrasing everything in questions? It confuses me. Gives me false hope for a second that saying no is an actual option.

I cleared my throat. Had to keep my eyes down. Too many staring faces. Mr. Havoc used to tell me to just imagine my audience naked, but that got really weird once my grade all started going through puberty. Mr. Falman told me to recite pi in my head while I talked so my head would be too busy multi-tasking to get anxious. I didn't know pi. Mr. Fuery told me to just do my best. That wasn't good enough. Mr. Armstrong told me to value muscles above grades. Ha. Ha. And then, Mr. Breda told me that I needed to quit worrying about worrying and just know he'd be at the office with my dad after school with an extra sandwich labeled 'Cutie.'

Okay! We'll go with that!

"My family," I said. I looked down at my poster. Not too many photographs, but we'd done our best. Mom had really worked her tail off getting the one of her parents on their wedding day. "My family…the Mustang's…" I pointed to the first picture. Grumman. A copy of his Fuhrer photo that got made into postal stamps. "Okay, well, there's him."

"Name?" said Ms. Branch.

"Fuhrer Grumman," I said. "He was Fuhrer and stuff before my dad was. He's kind of my mom's grandfather on her extinguished mama's side, which is nice. I mean it's nice that she has a living grandfather. Not nice that her mama is not so alive. Except that he retired after he married his old girlfriend when I was a kid and so we only see him a couple times a year."

Good, Nina. Just keep talking. Keep talking and you can't freeze up.

"But it's actually kind of a little known fact," I said. "You know, that he's related to Mom? Because she acts so super professional, so she doesn't…I mean she never got familial while he was still in office. But now she does since he's…not."

Bee raised her hand and spoke without being called on. "So, the fact that your father was endorsed as Fuhrer of Amestris by the former Fuhrer of Amestris had nothing to do with the fact that the former Fuhrer's maternal granddaughter married your father just a few years prior to the former Fuhrer's retirement?"

I swallowed. "Um, come again?"

Yeah, I got a few laughs around the room for that one. I felt my face warm and looked back at the poster as Ms. Branch told the class to quiet down. I took a breath.

"Um, okay, well," I paused. I pointed to the wedding picture. "These two are…well, they were my grandparents, I guess. But I didn't meet them since they died."

"They're your mother's parents?" said Ms. Branch.

"Yes," I said. I pointed shakily to the glitter-glue arrow going directly from Grumman to my mom's mom. "See?"

"How'd they die?" asked Simon with a smile from his desk.

I blinked. "Um…"

"Quiet down," said Ms. Branch.

I fiddled with my fingers. Sandwich. Sandwich. Think of Mr. Breda's sandwich. He makes good ones. Really good ones. With a ton of meat, just like Daddy likes.

I pointed to the photo of Madame Christmas smoking all classy with me on her lap playing with her pearl necklaces. "This lady's my dad's foster mom. She's still alive, which is nice."

"Wait," said Bee. "So, your mom and your dad are both total orphans?"

Was there such thing as a partial orphan?

Kim sat up in her seat and raised her eyebrows. "Wait, you're adopted too, right? Is your family cursed or something?"

"How'd they die?" said Simon.

"Don't have kids," said Lyle. "You'll live longer."

My breath was tight in my chest. I clenched my fists at my sides. I sucked hard on my lip. Could I go back to my desk?

Ms. Branch stood. "Class!"

"Moving on!" I said.

The class quieted immediately. It wasn't Ms. Branch's warning. It was how loud my voice had come out. I usually kept pretty indoor-level. I forced a smile out at my audience and pretended they all looked like sandwiches when they were naked.

"Look," I said. "I get it. Families are like blankets and you guys have got yourselves some very nice knitted masterpieces, maybe weaved back a hundred generations, maybe weaved back five. Who knows? Me, I've got myself a quilt. It's patchy. It doesn't necessarily match in every place, but hey, it keeps me warm as good as any other, so I'm more than a little grateful to have it. I look at me and my folks and I don't see a family of orphans. I see a family who adopted each—"

"Can I see that closer?" said Bee. She had her hand extended to my poster like I was halfway to handing it over already.

I blinked. "What?"

She snapped and pointed back to the poster like she was ordering a dog to drop a stick. "I want a closer look. I can't see from here."

Ms. Branch seemed a little lost in the moment. I surrendered the poster to Bee sort of expecting Ms. Branch to tell her to quiet down before Bee could get it to herself. Bee straightened out my orange timeline in front of her and surveyed my five puny photos; Grumman in uniform first, then mom's parents' wedding photo, Madame Christmas smoking, then a couple individual shots of Mom and Dad in uniform from when they were younger, and then the one with just me in it from right after I'd been adopted. It was the closest thing my mom could find to a baby picture. Well, I did look tiny and adorable. It was to this 'baby photo' that Bee pointed. I sucked my lip.

"That's you?" she said. Dang, it was like she was accusing me of something.

I toyed with my hair nervously. "Um, yep. Pretty cute, huh?"

"How old were you?" said Bee. "You look anorexic."

"Bee," said Ms. Branch. "Why don't you save questions for after Nina's done presenting?"

Bee ignored her. "Did your parents decide not to feed you for a week or something? Gosh, what'd you do?"

"I want to see!" said Lyle.

A few other students seemed to want to see too. Ms. Branch told everyone to quiet down. It wasn't really very effective. The poster started changing hands. That was fine, I guessed. Mom had been careful about choosing a baby picture that didn't show scars or graphic emaciation.

"Your hair's really short here," said Kim with the poster in hand. "Like a guy. Did you have lice and your mom just didn't want to deal with it?"

"Nope," I said. "Mom won't touch my hair."

"Something wrong with it?" said Kim with a yuck face.

"I want to touch it!" said Lyle. Weirdo.

"That's not what I meant," I said. "No, my hair was short like that when Mom got me. I meant she refuses to cut it unless I let her."

"Oh, wait," said Kim. "So, your birth-parents did that? Did they want a boy or something?"

"I really doubt it," I said.

"Oh," said Mal. "Okay, you scared me. So, the Fuhrer didn't starve you for a week. Your real dad did?"

I straightened like a cat ready to pounce, hands clutching fists of my skirt's fabric. I felt the underlying dark sensation of a glare making it to my face.

"Whoa, dude," I heard Mal whisper to a friend. "I think I really pissed her off."

"Nina," Ms. Branch started cautiously.

My real dad? Real? What was that supposed to mean? Like my current daddy was a knock-off of the _real_ thing? I felt my jaw tighten. They hadn't been serious about the starving thing, had they? I mean, I had in fact been starved, but they didn't know the story and it certainly hadn't been my parents who'd done it. Adoptive parents. Fake parents?

I walked past the rows of desks until I got to Kim. She gave me back my poster looking uneasy at me. I took it quietly and went back to my desk. Fake parents. Real parents. Adoptive. Legitimate. Forget it. As I stared down at my crinkled poster at the photo of me all done up in pink with ribbons laced through my short hair, I cringed at the memory of what I'd looked like under those clothes. Here I'd actually thought that photo was semi-normal.

I folded the poster closed. No. Adoptive or not, there was nothing in my timeline before my mommy and daddy. I'd had previous owners, but there had been no _real_ parents. Not ever. Parents didn't leave their daughters looking like anorexic boys with lice. I'd never had real parents.

…

_Present Day_

Uncle Fullmetal stood slack-jawed outside my mother's office with an absolute stack of files in his arms.

"Hey, what's up with her?" he said with a nod to me. "Is she okay? Jeez, Mustang, shouldn't you be in the conference room right now?"

"Don't worry about it," said Dad. "Tell me, is the Lt. Colonel in her private office?"

Uncle Ed shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I was just passing. Need to present important information to my team and then some." He looked at me. "You too, Major."

"You called me _Major_," I said.

Dad's hand tightened around my shoulder. "I said not to worry about it, Fullmetal. I'm taking care of it."

Uncle Ed stared at us for a while, eyes narrowing, mouth turning down, until his eyes finally remained on me and his features softened.

"Okay," he said. "Take care, kiddo. Don't let this fiasco get you down."

I snorted. "You realize how dumb you sound?"

Uncle Ed smirked. "Pretty much the same thing your dad said to me when my life went to hell."

"Not really," said Dad.

I caught him looking away in an uncomfortable sulk like his typical reaction when Uncle Ed said something that was, in fact, a compliment in disguise that would, if acknowledged, get turned into an instant emasculating insult. That's how things were with those two.

I watched Uncle Ed walk away with his arms full of folders. He looked so normal in his uniform with his back to us. Usually he stood out just by the thick cloud of bad attitude he carried with him, but all those files in his arms changed things somehow.

"Don't promote him," I muttered. "We're going to be majors forever, okay?"

I felt Dad's hand on my head. He chuckled. "And here I'd thought you had your heart set on becoming my successor."

I glanced up at him. He was smiling a little. I looked back at Mom's door and leaned my ear against his arm. I sucked my lip and watched his fist reach out to knock. His knuckles tapped twice and the door swung open before he could hit a third time.

"I thought I heard your voices," said Mom.

Despite that proclamation, she looked positively surprised to me. Well, as positively surprised as Riza Mustang ever really showed. Her eyes were wide on me and her skin wasn't exactly sheet-white, but it was so evenly toned it seemed colorless. Dad had given me a hanky in the elevator so I could clean up my sniffy-snuffy face, but Mom could always recognize tearstains on me. I hadn't expected otherwise.

Her brow creased slightly, her eyes seeming weighed down. "I see. So, we're doing this now."

"You heard Maes," Dad whispered. I looked up at him. Wasn't used to him referring to Maes on a first-name basis while in the workplace. Dad's face frowned. "We've put this off long enough. It's not like we have a choice. She's leaving tomorrow."

Mom nodded. She opened her door wider and stepped aside for us to come in. She had a modest office. Compared to higher-ups, at least. Back when I was still a little young to understand much about ranks, she and Dad used to say she'd stopped at Lt. Colonel because lieutenant colonels were the best besides Fuhrers. When I was older, they told me she'd stopped being promoted because it would've looked kind of corrupt if the Fuhrer's wife got to be a higher-up. During my past three years actually working in the building, though, I'd kind of realized how much came with the job; and the higher your rank, the more was expected out of you. Yep, my mom definitely avoided further promotions because she needed the freedom to take care of lab-baby at a moment's notice. Yep. My doing. My husband was currently, and had been for a while, a superior to quite possibly the most awesome soldier ever besides, like, my dad. Debatable. And it was because of me.

Of course, I didn't see much good in ever bringing that up.

Dad closed the door behind us. Then he locked it. Mom gestured to her office couch. It was a little outdated and a boring grey and kind of an itchy material for the cushion covers, but soft to sit on if you didn't make too much skin-to-fabric contact.

"Why don't we take a seat?" said Mom. I didn't like passive statements like that. Speaking in questions. Mom mostly only did that when she was feeling bothered about something.

I sank down on the middle cushion expecting my parents to sit on either side of me, which they did. They were quiet, but I caught them exchanging looks with each other, having conversations with their eyes, conversations that didn't leave either of them feeling much better. Mom's hand made it to my back and I realized this was the first physical comfort she'd given me since she'd said goodbye in the hall a week and a half ago. I frowned and grumbled, "My ass."

"I'm sorry," she said. Her face was showing something similar to the kind of pain you got from badly healed injuries acting up—you could get used to it, but the hurt was never pleasant. "Things have gotten out of hand, Nina. You understand that, right? Every time I turn around, there's someone else digging around in places your father and I have struggled for years to keep out of the light."

I stared at my knees.

Mom squeezed my shoulder. "You don't have to go to Drachma, you know? I've spent the past week and a half making sure of that. No one's going to look twice. Maes and the others involved in the selection process have taken great care to establish a capable team for this mission. You don't need to be on it."

I shrugged her hand off and looked at my dad. "Can we skip this?"

He paused a little surprised and looked to my mom. Mom looked at me.

"Please," she said. "You need to give it some thought. This decision isn't something to be reckless about."

I looked away. "You know, this case you're arguing might've been somewhat more received had it been presented when Dad was explaining the situation to me. Three days ago."

Mom grabbed my arm a little panicked. "This is serious, Nina. Too serious to shut out reason because you got your feelings hurt. I'm proud of you for wanting to face this again for the sake of others. It's admirable. You're strong and I've never thought otherwise. But, baby, I don't think you realize what exactly you're going to be facing out there."

I pulled my arm away. "Like hell! I saw the pictures. I know what I'm getting into. It's nothing I haven't seen before and I'm not backing down. You can't make me." Mom froze. I hunched my shoulders around my ears and sucked my lip. "Sorry. Didn't mean that. I mean, I did, but not the way I said it." My eyes drifted to my tummy. "If I had a daughter, I'd duct tape her to the wall before I let her go out and traumatize herself. That's…understandable."

"Duct tape, huh?" Dad said. "You think that'd work?"

I smiled a little.

He sighed. "Riza, you're stalling."

Dad rarely called Mom by her first name in her office and it was kind of sweet when he did. She seemed to get that and forced a smile for him.

"I suppose you're right," she said. She looked down at me. Her arm twined gently around my shoulders like a wing protecting a nest. "This isn't how I saw this conversation happening."

"Yeah," said Dad, leaning back. "Well, I _didn't_ see it happening. Period."

I leaned back with him to rest my cheek on his shoulder and mom leaned back with her arm still tucked around me. We all just stared at the white plaster ceiling for a while. I waited for them to speak up like someone waiting quietly for a feral animal to come out for food.

"Nina?" said Mom. "Did you throw up, baby? Your breath is acidic."

I'd gotten sick enough as a kid for her to be proficient in the signs of puke.

"She saw pictures, remember?" said Dad.

"She really saw them?" said Mom. "_The_ pictures? You didn't tell me. They made her sick? No wonder she was crying. Were you there?"

Dad huffed a breath. "Why do you think I brought her up here in such a hurry?"

"Roy."

I sucked my lip. "So, what's this conversation you mentioned having?"

Dad looked at me. "We're giving you the _birth parents _talk."

"Roy!" said Mom.

"Well, there's no sugar-coating it," he said. "How else did you plan on starting?"

Mom leaned her elbows on her knees and let her head sink into her hands. "Not like this."

My heartbeat was all over like it was jumping. I curled my fists. "You said _birth parents_."

Mom and Dad were still. There was a tense moment of quiet.

My dad's hand rested on my shoulder. "Well, you weren't exactly hatched."

Mom sighed harshly. "Very nice, Roy."

"What?" he said. "You weren't saying anything."

"So you filled the silence with a joke?"

"You'd rather argue?"

"Take this seriously."

I tapped Mom's arm. "Don't forget I'm here." I looked from her to dad then back to her. "So, what about birth parents? I belonged to the lab." I waited until they were both focused on me. "I belonged to the lab."

"Yes, you did," said Dad.

"But not always," said Mom. "Someone brought you there."

I took a breath. "Who?"

There was a pause. Mom looked at Dad.

"Your mother," he said.

"Your real mother," said Mom.

The rest of the conversation was a one-sided blur that lasted twenty minutes and made me feel sick to my stomach.

"Her name was Anya Bagrov," Mom explained. "Roy and I met her briefly. She explained the situation as best she could before passing."

The story was, Anya had had a fling with a guy she met at some kind of researcher's conference in Drachma way back when. During the fling, he'd mentioned his research program revolving around saving lives and doing the impossible; big talk to impress the lovely lady. He'd dumped her after getting her knocked up with me, of course, but when I popped out a sickly little infant, birth mom remembered what he'd said about saving lives. Apparently I'd been a sick enough baby to need saving in an impossible way.

Anya had agreed to enter me into my father's research program without taking time to look into just what the program entailed. Through the program's focus on negotiating things out of the Gate, Anya was able to pass through the Portal of Truth with newborn me and negotiate a health-swap between us. I turned healthy and wholesome. Birth mother became the sickly one.

Then healthy wholesome me got to go live at the lab with her father where she got experimented on with a bunch of other forgotten children for three years straight until finally Miss Anya got a guilt complex about selling her child to the devil because she was too dense to read the paperwork before dumping me off. Of course, this guilt complex didn't truly manifest until after I'd already been scarred to shreds, starved to toothpicks, and traumatized to hell, not to mention lost every friend I'd ever made and unknowingly had their twenty-nine souls jammed inside me along with mine.

Anya acted on her guilt complex after I started showing signs of fire alchemy, like my hands igniting in my sleep, for example. Apparently she noticed before the rest of the researchers and she wanted to keep it that way. Only problem was that she was really sickly because of the health-swap three years before, so getting me out of the lab and to safety with her all weak and dying wouldn't have been a guaranteed success. Another problem was that, at the time, my exchange for fire alchemy was lacking and the Gate was trying to pull my soul back every time my hands lit. She was running out of time. And that, apparently, was the only reason she could see to hurry her ass up in getting her baby out of that godforsaken place.

She'd been looking into Amestris's Flame Alchemist because that was kind of what the program was trying to make me into, so when she got a sloppy letter from a sloppy Roy Mustang, she saw her opportunity. Back then, Mom and Dad had been hiding out in a remote town called Clover Valley for a few good months and Dad had been getting restless enough to write a stupid letter to a Drachman woman he thought might know something about fire alchemy. He'd been stupid enough not to even change his freaking handwriting for it. Anya was a scientist herself and a dang intelligent gal. She got me out of the lab and tracked that letter all the way to Dad's location at Clover Valley on a hunch. Then she left me there on the doorstep.

When Mom and Dad were fleeing with me, they came across Anya somewhere in the wilderness. She was in the process of dying from whatever it was she'd taken on for me when I was a baby. Mom said she didn't realize Anya was my mother until she saw her blue eyes. After Mom and Dad got the information out of her, they told her they'd take care of me for her and all that. I slept through the whole thing. At the end, they laid me against Anya's arm for her and I slept on her until she was dead and then Mom and Dad picked me up again.

My breath wouldn't stop catching in my throat. Did I want to cry? Or did I need to scream?

"We've debated whether to tell you or not practically since it happened," said Dad.

Mom nodded, touching my back. "Until now, it just seemed like unnecessary pain. But now you're talking about going back."

I shook. "My dad did this to me? My dad? How is that possible? Which one was he? Do I remember? Why didn't she stop him?"

Dad's expression hardened. "He's not your dad. Don't think about it like that. Those people were barely human."

"But I was his," I said. "I mean, biologically I was. I probably even looked a little like the guy. And he…"

"And he doesn't deserve your thoughts," said Dad. "So turn him off, Nina."

I wiped the beginnings of tears off my eyes and nodded. Mom rubbed my back and invited me into her arms. I snuggled my face into her shoulder. She held me, so warm and cuddly and perfect. Her mom hugs were my favorite. Mostly because they were better than everyone else's, no offense to Aunt Winry and Aunt Mei and Miss Gracia and so on.

Mom whispered almost too soft for me to hear. "You really want to send her to Drachma like this?"

Dad's voice was whispering too, just maybe a little more exasperated. "It's not about what I want."

"You're the Fuhrer of Amestris," Mom whispered. "Pull some strings."

"It's her choice."

"You can override it."

I heard Dad stifle a chuckle. "Think that'll work?"

"I'm serious!" Mom hissed.

Oh, my gosh. I could totally hear them. I wondered if I should tell them that or if maybe they wanted me to hear. Yeah. Let's go with that.

"And you think I'm taking this lightly?" Dad whispered under his breath. "What happened last time we told her she had to stay home? She left anyway and she did it without us."

"That was different," whispered Mom.

"Was it?" said Dad.

"Yes! That run-in with terrorists was pure chance. This time we're throwing her into the thick of an investigation she's directly linked to. If anyone important finds out who she is or how she was involved, she could be in legitimate danger."

"We're sending soldiers with her. She won't be alone."

"We're sending research teams and guys from the Court Marshall's Office," said Mom. "Those aren't the kind of soldiers who know how to back each other up."

"Ed will be there," said Dad. "And plenty others. You're just working yourself up now."

"I'm being rational."

"She's made up her mind to go. She'll go. This time she'll have my support. That's being rational."

Mom's arms squeezed around me. They were close to normal volume now. "Put off the departure just one more week. Wait until the conferences here are concluded so I can go with her. She shouldn't be the only one on the investigation to know this situation back to front. At least give her that much."

I pulled away. "Excuse me?"

The startled looks on my parents' faces told me they hadn't considered me part of the conversation for a while.

I frowned at my mom. "You said to put it off for a week?"

She nodded carefully. "Six days. That's all it's going to take."

"No," I said. "That's not good enough. Six days is life or death, you hear me? Those dead kids in the basement? There was that little girl they found alive. If they'd got to her six days earlier, what do you bet she'd still be alive right now? Heck, how about six hours earlier? What about the rest of them?"

Mom looked pained like she'd begun to realize there was no good argument.

I rolled up my sleeve, exposing some discolored marks to my parents. I traced the scars with my fingers. "This happened because my original mother decided to wait six more days." I switched to another scar. "And then six more. And then six more. Every time she decided to put it off, more of these showed up." I pulled my sleeve down. "Would you have waited, Mom?"

Her eyes were heavy, but she smiled. "I wouldn't have waited six hours."

"Minutes," Dad said with a smug look her way.

She rolled her eyes. "Seconds."

"So," I said. "How can you expect different from me?"

I moved to take her hand, but she got mine before I could get hers. Her palm was warm and her fingertips were cool like how her hands had felt after getting back from the shooting range when I was a kid. I squeezed her hand and she chuckled a tiny bit with her head down. She looked at me soft.

"Then promise me something," she said.

"Mm?"

She raised an eyebrow. "No crazy stuff until I make it up there."

"You mean like," I twirled my finger at the side of my head, "no nutsy crazy?" I looked to the side. "Or no danger crazy?"

My parents answered together. "Both!"

"Okay," I said. "Okay, you got it. No crazy stuff. Promise. I mean, jeez. It's an investigation. What am I going to do? Get my finger cut with paperwork? Go blind from staring at snow for too long?"

"Neither, please," said Mom. "If you can help it."

I brushed my fingers against my tummy. I tugged my uniform tight around my waist like a protective cocoon.

"Don't worry, Mommy," I said. I smiled at my dad. "You either. To be honest, I've got too many people depending on me right now for me to take risks." One in particular currently dwelling inside me. Heh. "I'm going to be super responsible about this."

"I don't doubt it," said Dad.

Mom stroked my hair. "Just until I can make it up there. That's all I'm asking."

I nodded. She didn't ask for much, by most standards.

The phone at Mom's desk rang quite shrill. Mom shot a look to Dad who then huffed a sigh and nodded at her. She stood from the scratchy grey couch and picked up.

"Lt. Colonel Hawkeye speaking," she said in that overly professional calmness of hers. She looked to the side. "Yes, I apologize. I was held up, sir." She winced. "Yes, of course, sir, but that's not possible at the moment. Please, excuse my absence…"

"Who is it?" Dad whispered at her with a glare. Dad got pissed when he caught any soldier besides him giving Mom orders.

"Yes, sir," Mom continued. "I apologize again, sir." She hung up and met my Dad's eyes. "That was General Focker. They've been waiting on me."

Dad's eyes widened. "Waiting? That meeting should've started half an hour ago!"

Mom fingered through files on her desk like she was sorting. "If I'd thought there was a chance of them putting it off for me, I might've warned them I was running late."

"You're going?" I said.

She stopped looking through the files. Her eyes rested on me in a way that was almost pleading. "Is that okay?"

I slumped. "Um, sure."

Mom sighed. "Roy, will you give us a moment?"

"Go for it." He blinked. "Wait, you mean you want me to leave?"

He made it sound so pitiful. I patted his arm.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "Okay. I probably have my own share of angry phone calls building up at my desk."

I grabbed his sleeve. "Hey."

"Hey," he said.

"I've got something to say." I tightened my fingers on his sleeve. "Real quick."

"Okay," he said. "Everything alright?"

I pulled myself up by his arm and hugged him tight around his neck.

"I love you." I let him go. "Okay, that's all."

He seemed a little dumbfounded for a moment. He grabbed me and pulled me back in his arms, saying, "Oh, is that all?"

I giggled. "That's all."

"Well," he said with a couple gentle pets to the back of my head. "I guess I love you too."

"Roy," said Mom. "I'm sorry. I'm in a hurry."

Dad released me. "Right." He smiled at her. "We wouldn't want General Focker telling on you to your boss."

Dad kissed her forehead before leaving, which was unexpected. Mom seemed legitimately stunned by it. Sure, me and Maes showed physical affection all the time in the workplace, but no one else did. _Especially_ not the Fuhrer who'd married his subordinate.

"You're a good mother, Mrs. Mustang," he said with a sweet smile. "I'll try and find you if I can get away for lunch."

Mom rolled her eyes to the side. "I'd say that's going to be pretty unlikely at the rate things are going. For both of us." She smiled back at him. "But go ahead and try anyway."

She reached up and kissed his cheek and he went on his way with a last wink at me. The door closed behind him. I sank back on Mom's scratchy couch with my arms folded.

"He's sure taking this well," I said. I mean, he'd gotten pretty sensible with me since Xing, but really? This was heavy stuff.

Mom sat next to me and rubbed her temple. "It's my fault. I've been so stressed out about this that he probably feels the need to balance the mood." Her eyes sank. "Believe me. He's far from all right. About any of it. He wasn't joking when he said he hadn't ever planned on telling you about your biological parents."

Biological parents. The thought stung. I hunched. "That's understandable." I took a sharp, sob-like breath and leaned my face into my hand. "My dad did it to me. I can't wrap my head around that."

Mom rubbed my back. "Don't try to."

"This is ridiculous." I shook my head. "God, it's ridiculous. I can't afford to think about crap like that right now, but if it relates to the investigation, how am I supposed to ignore it?"

"That's not your problem," said Mom. "We've explained the situation to your Uncle Ed. He's been more involved in the details of your early life than anyone else outside the family and he'll take responsibility for carrying that knowledge during the investigation. We only told you as a warning. We didn't want you running across something and figuring it out on your own."

"Right." I nodded. "Okay, sure."

Mom squeezed my shoulder. "Nina, I have to be quick." I met her eyes and she looked really sad. "I need to talk to you about something, remember?"

"Um, yeah." I looked at the door. "Dad usually acts kind of hurt when you make him leave. Well, I guess he'll ask you later, right?"

"I don't think I'll be telling him about this conversation," said Mom. "This will stay between us, if you'd rather."

"Oh?"

"Nina," she said. "What you said the other day, what we were supposed to talk about later but never got around to?"

My face warmed. I sucked my lip. That's right. Infertility had been a hot issue that morning.

"There's no shame in it." She looked sadder and sadder. Her eyes drifted to the wall. "It's not like you can help it. Your father used to apologize like he'd done it on purpose. Like he'd chosen to rob us of children. It was painful."

I gulped. "Yeah."

"I don't know what you and Maes have tried," she said softly, "but there are certain advantages to adoption."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. If one more person suggested adoption to me like I hadn't realized it was an option yet…

Mom folded her hands on her lap. "Aside from giving an orphaned child a good home, you also eliminate risks of passing down heritable defects."

Heritable defects…

"Winry and I have discussed it between us a few times." She frowned a little. "Maes was never formally diagnosed with anything too specific at birth, but it's possible it was genetic with as little as we know of Edward's paternal lineage. And with your history of illness during infancy, the chances of you conceiving a child with similar defects is…" She trailed off. She met my eyes with concern written across her face. "Nina, is something wrong?"

I slammed my hand over my mouth, body trembling, stomach contracting, sweat prickling. My heart thudded like a nauseating bass drum. My lungs expanded in an involuntary inhale and I shifted around on my mom's couch just in time to heave up a heck-load of bile behind it onto her hardwood office floor.

"Oh, God, Nina!" She rubbed circles between my shoulder blades as I finished. "Hey, calm down. Breathe, baby. Breathe."

I shook her off and got off the couch as soon as my body would let me. My fist swiped across my vomit-mouth and left me frowning.

"Easy," Mom said, standing.

"I take it back." I shook my head furiously. "Oh, damn, I take it all back. All that stuff about it being okay that you never told me about my bio-parents? Not okay. Oh, God. I need to go."

"Nina!" She followed me to the door reaching for my arm. "Wait just a minute. Hold up. You were just sick! You're not leaving Central ill!"

I swung open the door before she could grab me. I turned my face to her for a moment. "Don't worry. I'm on my way to the doctor now."

Mom knit her brow. "What?"

I hurried into the hall and crossed into the sea of busy people with their files and paperwork. I heard Focker's voice calling at Mom behind me and I knew she would be too caught up being scolded for running late to the meeting to go after me. Which was good. Because I was going to puke again and then she'd never let me be and then I'd end up telling her the truth and then she'd tell Dad and then they wouldn't let me go to Drachma.

…

After a steady fifteen minutes spent in the girls' room dry heaving and washing puke-flavor out of my mouth at the sink, I'd finally exhausted every idea there was to get through any doctor's office or otherwise without giving too much of something away. Forget keeping pregnancy a secret for Maes's sake. Now I was keeping it secret to keep my place on the investigation. If Mom didn't want me leaving Central with what looked like an unstable tummy, what would she do if she found out I was chronically pregnant?

Forget that. What did I even want the freaking doctor for? To tell him-slash-her I was eleven days pregnant according to my ability to sense a new soul inside my body? To tell him-slash-her that my husband, General Elric himself, had been born a sickly baby with an undiagnosed something making him slowly die and I apparently had been born under similar circumstances and the both of us had, in our own time, been healed up by alchemic miracles that were highly classified and slightly very illegal? And, even since being healed, there was a chance these unknown and now un-present conditions had been passed down to said eleven-day-old soul and please help me save my baby from this crap that you're just taking my word for in the first place? I'm the sweetheart of Amestris, so you'll do as I say?

Okay, maybe that could work, but just no.

So I splashed some cool water on my face, straightened my uniform, and stepped back into the hall.

"Nina Mustang?" Phil said. Said it like he wasn't surprised to see me.

I spun around to face him as he slipped past some people to get to me. He smiled. I forced a smile back, but it felt awful. His own smile wilted. He'd noticed.

"So," he said. "Your father told me you were having some trouble."

I nodded. His smile came back a little. I raised my eyebrows. "What?"

He chuckled.

I stuck my fists on my hips. "Okay, what? You up to something?"

"Just following orders."

"Huh?"

He grinned in his awesome way, squaring his shoulders. "You've got yourself a guard detail, Miss Mustang."

"_Miss Mustang_?" My mouth twitched. "Wait, you're back to guard-guy?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "As long as the investigation in Drachma lasts. Fuhrer's orders."

I felt my lids stretch from my eyes. "Mom called it. He really is worried about me." My face broke into a grin. "You're freaking joking! You're really going to be my travel-buddy, Phil? Holy crap! I'm mildly cheered up!"

"That makes both of us. I haven't gone abroad on business since I joined up. I would've preferred lighter circumstances, but abroad is abroad. I'll take what I can get."

I blinked. "I never knew you wanted to travel."

"To be honest, going down to Risembool for your wedding was as far from Central as I've ever gotten." He shrugged. "It's tough when you've got two kids living with an ex who doesn't like to work. Doesn't free a guy up for too many selfish decisions when he's busy keeping up with support checks."

Wow, Phil was really pumped.

"You're such a little whiner." I punched his arm. "And a total martyr. Man, you're so cool." I grabbed his elbow. "Come on. If you're going to be my guard-guy in Drachma, you may as well be informed. Let's get our butts to the briefing before it's totally concluded."

"I haven't really had time to get my clearance badge altered." He looked nervous.

"Don't worry about it." I smirked. "They'll take my word for it."

_To be continued…_


	10. Wine and Baby Shoes

**A/N: So, bad news. Maes won't be coming until next chapter. I made some changes. Psych!**

**Sorry. Couldn't help m'self. Don't worry. Maes really is in this chapter, in person, as promised. Plus some other familiar faces...**

**Read on. Have fun. Happy Fourth of July!**

* * *

Chapter Ten: Wine and Baby Shoes

So, apparently Frank had fixed the prior issue of there being no random guard at the outside of our research team's room to tell everyone to go away.

"No access below orange-level clearance," said stupid-door-guard. "No exceptions."

I folded my arms. "Would Sophie Elric happen to be behind that door? Her military clearance ID hasn't even been processed yet. I'd call this double standards. Open up, door-guard."

Door-guard frowned. "No access."

I huffed. "She is, isn't she? She's in there with no material access."

Phil grunted. "Maybe we should let this one go, Major Mustang."

I rolled my eyes and flipped out my newly red clearance ID. I shoved it in door-guard's face. "Check it, soldier. This ain't your standard orange-level clearance badge right here. This is cherry red brilliance and it means I pretty much just rocked your world. I don't care what your orders from Lt. Colonel Charlie are; or anyone else, for that matter. Unless you were put here on the command of the Fuhrer himself, which you weren't, by sub-section twelve of the military handbook, my clearance in this investigation overrides whatever you think you're talking about. For the time being, my clearance prioritizes over every rank currently in that room telling you what to do. Red level soldiers are handpicked by the Fuhrer and handpick those they involve in their missions. Get your ass out of Phil's way. This is important crap and we are dreadfully late."

As door-guard stepped aside, Phil caught my eye and did some silent applauding motions. I giggled into my hand and turned the knob.

There was a slide of a dead child on the projector again, but this time I was ready. Phil wasn't. I could tell by the gasp sound over my shoulder as the door closed behind us. The room was packed. Selim stood up front with a pointer stick. Uncle Ed was a little more up front at the slate table giving some kind of talk to all those seated in rows across from the two of them. Our whole team was present now, besides Maes. Sophie had her eyes glued to her dad like she'd been hanging to his every word. Mikey had his eyes glued to the picture on the wall like he still couldn't understand how it could be real. There was one of Selim's subordinates working the projector at the back, the sergeant with the green highlights and bad acne who disliked me for no known reason. Then there was another of Selim's I recognized from the Court Marshall's Office as General Focker's nephew, Warrant Officer Blake Mother Focker. Okay, I added the 'Mother,' because how could you not?

There were tons more, though. Knox himself was seated with his annoying little group clumped around him like a high school clique; Bale, Law, Stewart, their two female lieutenants that looked alike even though they weren't related, plus Knox's son who I liked to refer to as Knoxy Junior.

There was that grandma-aged secretary I liked who'd been moved to my dad's floor after working the Court Marshall's Office for a couple decades. I supposed she was returning to hard-core investigations on this mission as she was sorting files with purpose and looking to Selim as she did it. I was probably less surprised than I should've been to catch Uncle Al standing at the very back of the room looking through a box of slides that wasn't being used at the time. Altogether, quite the turn out considering Maes was bringing more to the Station.

"Major Mustang," Uncle Ed said upon catching my entry.

He looked scared and I noticed his eyes darting to the image on the wall. The rest of the room stared at me in silence and I wondered if word of my tantrum earlier had spread enough to get them gossiping about me. The room still smelled a little like puke. Sophie began to stand like she was ready to defend me from the disturbing slides. My whole team kind of did, actually. I put my hand up before anyone could order the projector to go off.

"Don't mind us, Major Elric," I said. "Excuse our tardy arrival. We were held up on business with the Fuhrer."

Uncle Ed blinked. "I…see."

I stepped aside and gestured to Phil. "You know Major Philip Thomas. He's been assigned to the investigation by the Fuhrer as my private bodyguard and assistant and will thus sit in on the remainder of the briefing with me. His clearance badge is being altered as we speak."

"Right," Uncle Ed said with a nod.

I looked at Phil. His eyes were on the image on the wall. I sighed and went to sit in Maes's vacant desk seat. Mine had been taken.

"Sergeant Fuery," I said. "Fill us in. Do it in less than four minutes. Go."

George answered like snapping a whip, standing up and turning a few heads. "So far, Major Elric has informed us of the details of the situation in Drachma…"

I nodded. "Heard it." Phil looked at me. I looked back at George. "Major Thomas hasn't."

George shifted his attention to Phil. "There have been reports of mass child-kidnappings across Drachma sporadically over the past years, thought this information has only been released to Amestris within the month. It is now suspected that an illegal organization revolved around alchemic bioweapons research is responsible. Recently, Drachman police officers happened upon five child corpses in an abandoned basement at the Eastern border with signs of invasive experiments recorded in autopsies. Alchemy-related damage was considered possible in the reports, though no surefire indications were confirmed. The Drachman Prime Minister lacks the necessary resources within his country's government to perform a speedy investigation and definite end to this heinous activity, so he has employed the services of Amestris's alchemic researchers and investigations officers to assist."

Phil swallowed but kept quiet and calm like he knew he'd stumbled into crap but he wasn't going to complain about it. The woman with green highlights stepped forward and handed Phil a packet with an orange paperclip fastening it.

"Sergeant Lacey Hale," she greeted with a quick nod. "Read this through. It details the premise of the mission in full."

In full. I wanted to laugh.

Phil took an empty seat up front more in the light and started reading. Lacey started toward me with an identical packet. I shook my head at her and looked back to George.

"Anything useful I should know aside from background information?" I said.

Lacey frowned. George met my eyes through his glasses in real seriousness.

"I might read the packet if I were you, ma'am."

Uncle Ed spoke before I could. "Major Mustang has already been briefed on the details behind this operation. Thank you, Sergeant Fuery. Let's continue."

George nodded and took his seat with a concerned look my way. Sweet pea. I'd probably really freaked him out earlier.

"Um," began Uncle Ed. "Well, as I was saying, this investigation team will be departing tomorrow morning at seven sharp, so it's not much time to get to know this case front and back. By regulations, only red-level officers are permitted to take military classified information outside of HQ, so if you're orange, I suggest you find someone red and arrange to meet with them after office hours tonight if you're not sure you can get to know this case front and back by tomorrow, which you can't, by the way. You'll be allowed some access on the train to Briggs, but once we make our pit stop there, that's it. No more preparing. You'll be working until the job's done. Do what you can to learn this case in the time you have."

Mikey raised his hand like he was in a classroom. "Sir, in that case, can we take an inventory of which officers on this investigation are red-level thus far?"

Uncle Ed nodded. "That's just what I was about to do. Lieutenant Bradley?"

Selim came forward with a clipboard. "This is our most up to date report of officers and consultants assigned to this team. Red-level participants include Izumi Curtis and General Elric, who will be joining us tomorrow morning, Major Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Sophie Elric, Brigadier General Falman, who will be joining us also tomorrow, and, finally, Dr. Knox and Major Nina Mustang."

As far as I knew, all the guys Selim had listed already had some kind of prior knowledge on me and the deeper workings of this mission. The red-level clearance was a formality, then.

"Major Phillip Thomas," I added. "I believe he's being assigned red-level clearance, but don't take my word on that."

Selim met my eyes and nodded. "I'll keep him at orange until we get confirmation." The way he was looking at me said he was already taking my word for it.

"Of those mentioned," said Blake Focker, "which red-levels are willing to host non-red tonight? I live pretty far out from HQ. Anyone live close to Garden Square?"

"Sort that out in your own time," said Uncle Ed. "We're moving on. There are some technical details about this mission that we need to cover before we move onto anything else, so no more questions for now. Understood?"

I caught Sophie answering, 'yes sir,' with everyone else. Mike glanced at her like seeing her serious about work made him uneasy. I shot my hand into the air and spoke without being called on.

"Major Elric," I said. "There's something I'd like to address before you continue."

He flipped through papers. "Go on."

I folded my arms. "The projector."

He looked up.

"I happened to notice you've left it on," I said. "In spite of the fact that the briefing concerning the situation itself has been discussed and completed. Are we being desensitized?"

Uncle Ed wasn't nearly as good at hiding the emotion in his eyes as a lot of people I knew. His gaze was heavy, his expression becoming apologetic. His mouth parted to speak. I put up my hand before he could.

"Just trying to be clear," I said. "Sorry for the interruption. I believe I'm caught up now."

He let out a breath. "Excellent. Well, moving on."

Uncle Ed spoke straight through the first half of our lunch break, but who gave a darn? With what we'd all just been thrown into, no one would've felt like eating anyway. We'd be headed to Briggs first. We'd be 'escorted' there by Brigadier General Falman and a couple of his subordinates, though it was semi obvious they'd really be tagging along to spy on the four Drachman diplomats accompanying us from their embassy in East City. Soldiers from Briggs didn't trust diplomats from Drachma accompanying Amestrian soldiers on any classified mission. Apparently Briggs used to have kind of an issue with Drachma and apparently Briggs was currently giving out a lot of the orders concerning our investigation. Apparently Briggs had been the lovely bunch to keep hollering errands for Maes to run every time he'd get close to coming home to me.

Once we made it to Briggs, we'd regroup and head to Drachma's Capital within the following day. Our accompaniment of four Drachman diplomats would make sure we got through any red tape at the border without a hitch. Falman and his subordinates with trust issues would make sure the Drachman diplomats didn't betray us at the last minute. We'd check into a hotel near the Drachman military base and we'd be in a meeting with Drachma's leaders figuring this crap out before we'd even had a chance to unpack.

Perfect.

And the whole time Uncle Ed was explaining this, I was staring into the dead eyes of a little boy projected on the wall. He looked back at me like his soul had been dead for a long time. Maybe he'd never really been alive. Not ever.

Who did this to you, baby? That's what I wanted to ask. Maybe to help with the investigation. Maybe to have a focal point of vengeance. Maybe so I could cradle the sickly cutie in my arms and tell him all the ways this so-and-so who hurt him is a big stupid head and bears no credibility in the worth of a child. Just to tell him I loved him so maybe someone would've done it just once before he died.

Uncle Ed closed the folder in hand and signaled for the lights to be turned on and the projector off. I stood as he spoke.

"That's it for the briefing," he said. "Break for twenty. We'll spend the rest of the workday addressing questions and going over the information from the Court Marshall's Office. If you don't yet have your passport or ID straightened out, I suggest you use this time to do so."

I buttoned my coat over my chest. "I'm assuming I won't be needed, then?"

Uncle Ed paused. "Um, no. No, Major. You can be dismissed if you wish."

I nodded. "Bradley, I have a question before we break."

Selim looked up from his clipboard.

"How much information do you have on the autopsy reports?" I gestured to the bare wall that had held the projections of dead children. "I'd like to know how long they'd each been under the care of the laboratory before being discovered. It was said that children as old as five had been targeted during the kidnappings recently, but these abductions have been going on for years. There's a chance we've been looking at slides of five children who've experienced a month of trauma and there's a chance we've been looking at five children who survived four years of it before passing."

Selim looked impressed. "That information hasn't yet been disclosed to us given the high security right now, but I'll get it to you as soon as we're at the Capital."

I walked to the door. "Right. Thanks. Major Elric, I have a favor."

Uncle Ed looked to me.

"I know you have a ton of company in your house right now," I said, "but I'm not up to hosting anyone tonight. See that our team has a place to review the red-level materials after hours?"

"Sure," said Uncle Ed.

Sophie caught my eye all tense like part of her wanted to stay and work with the team and part of her sensed something horribly wrong and wanted to get me home safe.

"You'll take a cab," piped up Uncle Al, eyes on me. "Right?"

Yeah, he'd been one of the lucky few that'd gotten to see pathetic Nina during the first of her hospitalization after getting skewered. He got worried like a mom when I did too much walking in the snow, same as Maes and both my parents.

"Don't worry," I said. "Phil's taking me home."

I heard someone whisper, 'Who's Phil?'

Phil was already standing. I hadn't talked about leaving early with him beforehand, but I figured he'd somehow expected it from me. We walked out together and I tried to ignore the questioning looks from the others.

"We need to talk," I said as I led him briskly through the parking lot.

"I thought as much," he said. He pointed left. "My car's this way."

We got in and he started the engine up with the heater going full blast. It really was cold. He was wearing gloves to keep his hands from freezing working the steering wheel.

"It'll be colder up North," he said. "Not going to enjoy that."

"Yeah," I said with a halfhearted smile. "Be sure to pack some extra hats. Don't want your pinhead to crystalize out there."

He chuckled. "It'll be the first thing in my suitcase."

"If you forget, I'll make you wear pink earmuffs." I looked out my window. "Note to self; purchase emergency pink earmuffs in case Phil forgets his hats."

Phil chuckled.

I sighed. "Damn. Isn't life great?"

Phil nodded. "It can be."

"Hey, I have a question."

"Yes?"

"How'd your wife break the news?" I hugged my arms. "Like, when she was pregnant with your daughters, how'd she tell you? Was it something special, or did she just say it and it was great on its own?"

He did a side-glance at me. "Um, I…"

I snorted. "Just answer the freaking question, Phil. I want to know. How'd she break the news? Was it fun?"

He looked back out at the road and cracked a grin. "My eldest was the best. Nancy had it all planned out for me when I got home from work that evening. She had dinner ready with candles and a record from our wedding playing through the house. She had all these hints set up, right? Like, my place at the table was the only one with a wine glass, not to mention there was a third chair pulled up. I didn't catch the drift, though. Nancy just beamed and handed me this little gold box and told me to open it up. I got it open expecting…I don't even remember what I was expecting, but it wasn't what I got. Instead, I'm looking down at a pair of baby shoes."

"That's glorious!" I said.

Phil laughed. "Yes, it should've been. Nancy didn't get quite the reaction she'd been going for, though. Damn. I was so scared when I realized what those shoes meant. The evening ended there. I couldn't even eat dinner. Though, I seem to remember digging right into the wine."

"What?" I cackled. "You pansy! That was your grand reaction?"

He shrugged a beefy shoulder. "It's not like it was expected news. We were pretty young. I was scared. Needed time to…process?"

I rubbed his arm. "Aw, that's the best."

"Yeah, well," he laughed, "the second time around, Nancy didn't waste her time on another dinner. Just called me right there at work and said she was pregnant again then hung up on my face. Nice, right?"

"What'd you do?"

"I told my commanding officer and he took us all out for cigars."

I shook my head. "Mom gets morning sickness. Dad gets wine and cigars. Since when is that fair?"

Phil looked at me. He looked back at the road. "Something I should know, Nina?"

"Maes gets to hear it first," I said.

His eyes widened and he looked at me again. He looked back at the road. "Understood."

"Phil, I didn't need to talk about all that." I stared out my window at the slushy roads. "That's fun and all, but there's something I need to say before you drop me off."

"I'm listening."

I sighed a long breath, fogging the glass. I looked at Phil. I looked back out my window. "I can't tell you everything. And what I tell you, you can't repeat."

"Understood."

"To anyone."

"Right."

I folded my hands. "Remember that summer I stopped wearing tights and concealer to hide the scars?"

No answer. We hadn't really talked about the scars. Happily un-blazed territory.

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. "I had to go back to hiding the scars after I came home from Xing, but, while I was out on my own, I didn't have to. Well, I guess I just decided not to. Anyway, you saw."

"I did."

"And you didn't ask."

Quiet.

"It was my previous owners," I said. "Obviously. The folks who kept me before my parents got me out of there and adopted me. They beat me and other children like me until we scarred like you saw."

After a moment, he said, "That makes me sick. I'm sorry."

"But you'd guessed as much."

He paused. He nodded. "Something like it."

"That's not all, Phil." I looked back out my window. "Listen carefully. I already said I can't tell you everything, but I can trust you with this much. Those children that were shown in the slides earlier, the ones who were found dead in the basement, they came from the same place I did twenty-one years ago."

The car swerved slightly as his head turned to look at me. "What?"

"We don't know if it's the same people heading it," I said, "but it is the same organization. I'm sure of it more and more. Those children were victims of the same research I lived the first three years of my life under."

"God!" he said. "Nina?"

"Calm down," I said.

"Calm down?" His fingers gripped hard to the wheel. "Nina. You're not serious."

"I wouldn't joke about dead babies!"

"And you're going back?"

I balled my fists. "Thirty of us went in the first time. I was the only one that came out. That's not going to happen again!" I grabbed my hair. "We just _found_ five corpses. How many forgotten graves have we been overlooking to this point? Good God. These are babies! If another person calls me crazy for going back, I'll…I don't know what I'll do."

His big hand was laying light on my shoulder. I breathed.

"You're not crazy," he said. "You're brave."

My body shuddered and he patted my back until I wasn't shuddering anymore.

"So," he said. "That's red-level clearance, then? The ones that know about your involvement?"

"Yeah." I breathed. "Pretty much. Knox and Falman are old friends of my dad's, so they know scraps about me just from being around to see me grow up a disturbed little munchkin. Really, you're about as informed as either of them now. I don't know how much my Dad has disclosed to them up front recently. The Elric's and all know more details, but it's because they're family. Until now, my past wasn't really a military matter for some time."

"Your past." Phil shook his head. "You're too young to have a past."

I watched the way he was driving, his mouth turned down and his hands gripping the wheel like he was choking something. He kind of reminded me of my dad.

I punched his arm. "I'm fine, Philly."

"Are you?" he said.

"I am." I smiled soft. "Maes will be with me. Plenty of people will. And you'll be there too, right?"

He smiled a little himself. "That's right."

"Things are always better with a bulky bald guy at your side."

"I can tell why Armstrong likes you so much."

I laughed. "How can a guy like him dislike anybody? Hey, I wonder if he'll be at the Station tomorrow to see Olga off. I mean, he's been posted East for a while, but I can totally see him taking a day or so off to give his only daughter a warm goodbye on her first legit mission."

"He'll bring her a transmuted sculpture of his face to mark the occasion."

I rolled my eyes. "You underestimate the power of Armstrong generational paternal vibes. If it's a sculpture of anyone's face, it'll be Olga's for sure."

"Think it'll show her eyes?"

"Past the bangs? Never. The Armstrong family has prided itself on artistic accuracy for generations." I raised a brow. "And Olga never wears her bangs above her eyes."

"Does she not?"

"Nope."

"Why's that?"

"I have no clue." I smiled. "Actually, I kind of do, but I swore I'd never tell."

"Now I'm curious."

I smiled and kept my lips sealed.

The anticlimactic truth was, Olga had been born with eyes that were a darker variation of blue than the rest of the Armstrong family's, more reminiscent of her mother's, who'd married into the family. She looked entirely Armstrong but for that one detail that probably only an Armstrong would ever notice. I'd seen it when I'd held her as a baby one time and her dad had pointed it out to me with affection. No one in her family seemed to care, but once she'd realized it, she'd seemed to care a great deal. And, thus, bangs.

Phil pulled up to my townhouse kind of brooding. He looked at me after parking like he was thinking about saying something. Then he let out a sigh and patted my hand.

"See you tomorrow?" he said.

I squeezed his fingers for a moment. "See you, Phil. Don't forget those extra hats."

He chuckled. "Always thinking of others."

"Naturally," I said, "baldy."

He walked me to my door and hugged me back when I hugged him goodbye. He asked me if I was sure I was fine on my own about four times before walking away.

…

"Been a while, Twenty-one."

The sweet smell of pine and clover flowers hit me gently with the breeze. I turned on my bare feet to face Eighteen.

He waved and laughed. "I see you've brought someone new."

I laid my hand flat on my stomach and smiled. He'd sensed it. "Yeah, this is the first time I've brought this soul to our place."

Eighteen shrugged. "Your life was our life, so he's one of us as long as he's inside you."

My eyes widened. "He? Wait, you can't tell if it's a boy or girl?"

Eighteen knit his brow. "Well, no. But, grammatically, all creatures are male until proven female."

"What do you know about grammar?"

He laughed. "Hey, maybe you weren't paying attention during lessons. The rest of us didn't have much else to do just flowing around in your life force."

"Our life force," I said.

His sparkling smile, his contagious laugh, these things were what reminded me in my bad times that there was justice in the world. There was an ending for people like us, an end that erased scars and encouraged laughter. The cool grass between my toes tickled as I stepped forward to hug Eighteen's neck. He took me through the trees with him to find the others. He said they'd been swimming all day but he hadn't stayed in as long because he'd been swimming all night.

That's where people like us flocked. We went where there was water. This place's water was something I wanted to carry out of my dreams.

"Ten, you get back here!" Five screamed. "I'm not done tying your hair!"

"Don't need my hair tied," called Ten. "I'm a boy."

"Just let us," said Nine. "We'll be gentle."

"Gentler," said Five.

Eighteen stepped forward and cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "Hey, dummies, look who showed up!"

He didn't have to say anything after that. I was soon surrounded by twenty-nine damp spirits giving me hugs and dancing with excitement when they sensed the new soul inside me. Yes. This was it. This was what peace was. This was what death was supposed to look like. It was supposed to be like crossing into a rawer form of life.

Nine and I sat at the edge of the creek together with our toes hanging in.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I can't believe it's happening again."

I rubbed my face. "It's not. I won't let it."

She smiled kind of cute. "I believe you." She leaned back on the grass and tilted her face to the blue sky. Her smile faded. "Still. I wish you weren't alone. We should be helping you."

"You already helped me," I said. "Your work is done. Rest in peace, okay?"

"You're quite the warrior, Twenty-one."

I laughed. "No, I just have zilch self-control."

"Now," said Nine, "I don't believe that for a second."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Be that way, then."

The water on my feet was cool and clear and sounded like summer. It was this special kind of cool that never got too cold, the kind you could jump feet-first into and not come up yowling and shivering right after. It tasted like nothing and still managed to taste better than anything we had in the real world. Besides maybe Noodle Shack take-out.

Eleven dropped next to me. His bro, Ten, knelt at my other side. They hugged my arms.

"It was nice seeing you," they said.

"Am I waking up, then?" I looked up at the blurring blue sky. "Yes, I suppose I kind of am."

"Say _hi _to Maes for us," called Thirteen.

I smiled. "I always do."

"Come back soon," said Nine. She knelt in front of me and touched my tummy. "Both of you."

The place her fingers made contact felt like white electricity, pulsing and precious. I touched my stomach where she had. "I'll try. I always do."

As the air grew less perfect and the scenery faded from me, Eighteen's tall form stood over me and spoke. "I can feel them. Souls drifting with nothing to channel them home."

My eyes narrowed. That was odd of him to end it like that. Or was that even him? Then I noticed how the air was growing brighter instead of darker. Stark. This wasn't dawn's light. This wasn't waking up. This dream was shifting.

I stood in emptiness.

Nothing.

I looked around.

"Eighteen?" I turned in the void. "Nine? Hey, Five, I want to go back. I want to stay with you guys!"

How'd I get back here? This is…

Is this a memory of the Portal?

My eyes flashed open to the sound of my alarm. I panted a breath. Hadn't dreamed of heaven in weeks. Hadn't had a Portal flashback in months.

…

I dragged my hand over my droopy eyes. Didn't matter how restful my sleep had been. It was still before six in the morning and there was just something wrong with that. Not to mention I'd been puking off and on since my shower. Part of it was nerves. Part of it was morning sickness setting in, as much as I wanted to think otherwise. Hopefully it wouldn't last long for me like it did for some women. Aunt Winry had had it all the way through her pregnancy with Maes. Not so much with the twins and Sophie.

Anyway, no breakfast for Nina.

"Want some corn flakes?" Sophie said as I entered the kitchen.

I felt my stomach clenching to burp and I held my mouth.

"Oh," she said. "I thought I heard retching. You okay?"

"It's begun," I said. "Perfect timing, right?"

Sophie chomped a piece of honey-dripping toast. "Right."

She'd been issued a uniform specifically altered for our investigation's consultants, or that's what the paperwork had said. Really, it was just a recycled military police suit tailored for a woman and decorated with a copper badge over her heart labeled, 'Hired Consultant.' It was to make her look like part of the herd when our team traveled together and to make her stand out as Amestrian aid when on the field. She looked gorgeous and let her heavy make-up compensate for her inability to show excessive skin in the uniform.

I washed my mouth out at the sink one more time before we left the house together. Half past six on the button. I handled my suitcase with care. Didn't want the wine bottle cushioned inside my spare shirts to leak. Sophie made the cabdriver roll down all the windows to let the fresh air circulate for me as we drove. I did not feel good. Not to begin with and certainly not on a bumpy road.

"So," Sophie whispered. "How are you going to tell him? Just there at the Station? Or on the train?"

I shook my head. "Don't worry, girl. I got this all figured out. Soon as we get a moment at Briggs tonight, I'm putting on our wedding record and spilling the beans with romantic style."

Borrowed romantic style, but romantic nonetheless.

"You're waiting until tonight?" said Sophie. "Come on. You really think you can pull that off? You'll be sitting next to him on the train for hours! You'll never keep your mouth shut that long. I bet my ass on it."

"Your ass is mine." I smiled all weak and nauseous. "I've got a plan."

I curled my fingers and played with my thumbs in a fidgety way. Sophie and I were joking around like always, but this morning was undeniably serious. Uncle Ed hadn't been kidding at the briefing. Preparation was officially over. We were going right into the storm and we weren't coming out until it was done. Plus, I hadn't seen Maes in twelve days and a lot had happened since. I wasn't just about to face Drachma. I was about to face him. That in itself was enough to get me fidgety.

"Nina?" Sophie said softly.

"Yeah?"

She touched my hand. "It's going to be okay."

I gave her a smile. "Think so?"

"With Brother to lead us and you to keep him in line?" She gave a thumbs-up. "I guarantee it."

"Maes leading the charge while I run after him to keep him in line? Funny. It makes more sense the other way around, doesn't it?"

Sophie giggled. "Guess so."

Sophie and I got to Central Station close to last of everybody. Braddock lived a little further out of Central than most of us, so it made sense he'd be the only one still on his way when we arrived. Maes's train hadn't come yet. That's all I cared about as far as punctuality.

It was surreal, stepping into a motionless Central Station. All trains coming and going had been put on hold for the morning, promoting a flawless departure for the last-minute mission. We'd have our own train just for our investigation team. Extravagant. And lucky. If I threw up in one of the cars, there'd be plenty more empty ones to move to.

Everyone had brought their families to see them off, it seemed. Uncle Ed must've given them permission to do that after I went home. As the Fuhrer, my dad was already there anyway, probably the first to arrive. My mom, of course, was at his side. She was talking to Aunt Winry with Skylar in her arms. Aunt Mai was talking gooey to Uncle Al and straightening his scarf while he held Lanny in one arm and hugged his triplets with the other. Uncle Ed held Avery over his head and made him laugh with silly expressions while Ms. Gracia and Mrs. Bradley doted over the cutie with granny-secretary. Selim had Elysia stuffing what looked like one of her scrapbooks into his bag while he smiled down at her like he really loved her. Knox was saying a tough-love goodbye to his grandkids with Knoxy Junior laughing and kissing his wife, kids, and mama goodbye with a lot less tough in his love. Miss Becca and Mister Jean looked like they were in the process of giving Mikey advice and their advice contradicted each others. George's dad was watching it go down with a smile while Georgie focused on his whiney nieces who didn't seem to want their uncle to go. Armstrong and the missus were coddling Olga with sparkling smiles. Phil's daughters were holding each of his hands. Frank had some girl he'd never told us about hanging on his arm crying just a little and he looked plum nervous about it. Green-highlights Lacey had a purple-highlights mother kissing her all over her bad skin. General Focker had come to see off his nephew. Heck, even Captain Law had a couple people who'd shown up for him, and last I'd checked, he was a bachelor with most of his family living abroad in Aerugo.

The only person I saw standing alone was Major Howard Bale. He was standing apart from the others, suitcase on the ground at his feet and a newspaper in his hands. The way he was reading that paper, you could trick yourself into thinking he was standing alone because he'd rather be friends with the post than with people. No matter how you looked at it, though, it was pathetic.

I thought about branching off to wish the jerk a good morning, but then Aunt Winry caught my eye. She grinned when she saw me, eyes sparkly. I knew right then. She'd figured it out. Well, how could she not after what I'd asked of her?

She came over to me and Sophie with her large mom-purse over her arm.

"Hey, baby," she said to Sophie. "Why don't you go say bye to your brothers? Give us a minute?"

Sophie looked at me with an arched brow. I nodded. She patted her mom's arm.

"Later," she said as she walked away.

I looked at Aunt Winry and spoke low. "You found them?"

Aunt Winry reached into her purse and inconspicuously brought out a tiny wrapped box. "Of course. I keep all my babies' firsts. Well, maybe not _all_ firsts. That could be bad." She handed me the box with care. "First socks, anyway. Careful. He had tiny feet. Once you take them out of the box, they'll be easy to lose and I want them back when you're done."

I took the box. It was really light, even for its size. I wondered if that was how Maes had been.

"Of course," said Aunt Winry, quiet and smooth, "if you need them back in a few months, we can work that out."

I paused at unzipping my suitcase and looked up at Aunt Winry. She was shuffling through her purse again. This time what she pulled out was much bigger and hidden in her grip even more carefully. She handed it to me.

"Here, take it," she said. "Don't let Ed or your parents see you with it. They'll know exactly what it is."

It was a book, a thick book. It was worn and heavy enough to need two hands to hold it. The cover was faded, but I read it clearly. 'What to Expect When You're Expecting.' That's right. I'd seen this around here and there while she'd been pregnant with the twins. This was a dusty old pregnancy guide.

My face felt hot. I shoved the book in my suitcase nearly forgetting to be careful with the wine and wedding record already packed in there.

Aunt Winry whispered. "That book saved Maes. It's been in the family since before he was born, so be careful with it. A friend who worked as a trained nurse filled in all the footnotes, so this copy is irreplaceable."

I zipped my suitcase back up and stood straight. "No tattling to the others."

"It's not my news to tell." She bit her lip through a smile. "My recipe for cornbread is written inside the back cover."

I frowned at her, but I felt too sick to complain about cravings in detail. I let her give me a wonderful mom hug that smelled like cinnamon oatmeal. She whispered softly in my ear, "Good luck, Nina."

I ran a hand through my hair. "Yeah, luck's never been a strong suit of mine."

She shrugged. "It depends on how you look at it." She laughed softly at my skeptical glare. She took my suitcase and walked me to my waiting parents, whispering. "All those children you're out to save, Nina; they're depending on the soldier whose luck matched theirs once. Don't forget that."

I sucked my lip hard. Mom watched us come over with narrowed eyes. She handed Skylar off to Aunt Winry and turned to me. Instant interrogation.

"What were you two talking about over there?" she said. "Everything alright?"

Dad came to her side and looked at me with equal suspicion. "You look pale."

"I'm fine," I said. "It's just early."

"What was that I saw you put in your suitcase?" said Mom.

I sucked my lip. "Does it matter?"

"You looked nervous," said Mom. "And how you left yesterday was troubling on its own."

"What's going on?" said Dad. "Is something bothering you? Damn, you really do look pale."

"I'm fine," I said.

Aunt Winry stepped up to the plate with an arm around my back and a cheerful smile like she was off to bake a pie. "Oh, don't worry about it, Roy. Nina just needed a couple things for tonight. She called yesterday."

"A couple things?" said Dad. "What things?"

Aunt Winry raised her eyebrows, her gaze shifting to me. "She hasn't seen her husband in twelve days. Use your imagination."

Dad's face drained of color. "Never mind."

Mom held her eyes on me in a silent frown. The disapproval, the hurt in her eyes. It made me shudder. Aunt Winry was telling the truth, but what she was implying was all wrong and Mom seemed to get that. She knew full well I kept sex as me and Maes's thing. I wouldn't even talk about it with my own mother. I wasn't one to take sex-related items from my mother in-law, let alone in plain sight. That was stating the obvious. Aunt Winry's comment scared my dad off, but now Mom looked surer than ever that it was time to worry.

"Nina!" Ming shouted. I could've recognized the squeak in her voice anywhere.

I turned just in time to open my arms to the barreling nine-year-old. A bit of a mistake. The impact of her little body made my stomach lurch. Still, she wasn't big enough to do any real damage.

"I missed you," she said.

I patted her dark head. "You saw me day before yesterday, cutie."

She hung onto my waist. "Too long."

"Yeah," said Trisha, coming to hug my arm. "And now you're going away again."

Jun stood in front of me with her hands on her hips. Lanny trailed along with a grip on big sister's purple skirt.

"You promised," said Jun, "that we'd have a sleepover at your house on your next day off."

I stuck my hands on my hips in a similar fashion. "Yeah, well, I don't have a day off anytime soon. Sorry, puppy."

Jun skipped right to forgiving me and hugged onto my middle with her sisters. Lanny sucked her gloved fingers and switched from holding Jun's skirt to holding my uniform trouser leg. She was kind of a weird three-year-old.

"Now isn't that the sweetest?" Aunt Mei was saying all bubbly to Uncle Al.

Seconds later, Braddock's reassuring face was finally entering the scene with a bunch of lovelies I assumed was his family. He had his wife holding tight to his hand. She was tall, taller than my mom, with platinum blond hair in curls and a long, plain coat over her thin build. She had a sleeping little boy in one arm; couldn't have been more than eighteen months. Braddock had another boy walking next to him about waist-tall carrying the suitcase for Dad. The two remaining children, girls, were between that boy's and the baby's ages. They followed arm-in-arm like they were scared to be separated in a new place. Every one of the four was blond like their mom with soft expressions like their dad. They were all a little thin, but not to the point of worry. Just wiry, like they'd skipped the cheeseburgers and gone outside to play instead.

I saw Mikey waving him over. "Major Braddock," he greeted with a smile.

Mikey broke off from his parents to give Braddock's hand a shake and soon Frank was heading over with his tearful girlfriend to exchange some handshakes with Braddock and the family himself. I stroked Ming's hair and smiled to myself. A couple weeks ago, Braddock had barely said a word to the rest of the team. Now it was like he was no different from the rest of us. Good he'd integrated before things started heating up, I guessed.

I looked up and noticed my mom whispering to my dad. Their narrowed eyes kept glancing over to me then back at each other and as mom's frown hardened, so did my dad's. I could tell they were probably talking about me being sick again or something, maybe something about me not telling the whole truth, and I might've gone over there to clear things up to some minor degree that wouldn't get me taken off the investigation if it hadn't been for the train whistle sounding off in the distance.

My arms tightened around the girls like a reflex modeled after hugging a teddy. The people around me, soldiers and otherwise, turned their eyes to the vibrating tracks. The air pulsed with train wheels chugging and stirring.

"He's here!" Jun cheered. "Maes is here!"

"Yay!" cheered Ming.

"Alright!" cheered Trisha.

Lanny buried her face in my leg and started whining about the noise. I saw my parents exchange a tight look.

The sight of the monstrous train passing and grinding to a halt in front of us was overwhelming. Like a giant metal monster-snake parking itself and roaring in our faces. I let go of the girls. The comforting pressure they were putting on my stomach with their hugs wasn't worth the building nausea resulting from it. As the hiss of steam marked the train's full stop, I bit down on my lip. My breath shook. This was it. It was happening.

A woman in one of those fancy train attendant uniforms with the tight skirts opened the door of the train car that was located directly behind the engine ten or so meters from where I stood. I held my breath. The station seemed so still. No one spoke. Just the whining sounds and crying of the younger children present who hadn't appreciated the train smoke or screeching tracks.

Maes came out first. He walked tall. His uniform had been altered for his new rank, straight down to his coat. It was Briggs issued, reinforced with wool lining beneath the flannel and thick outer water-resistant material our Central-issued coats were made of. His face was stone, eyes ahead like he knew exactly where he was and he'd planned days ahead every step he'd take for the next ten years. Once he'd boarded off, he stood to the side and watched the door like taking inventory as Grandma Izumi stepped out after him in a wool-lined version of Sophie's coat and joined him where he stood. Others followed.

I recognized Mr. Falman right off the bat from my childhood. His appearance hadn't changed much since I'd seen him a couple years back at my wedding. His hair was more evenly grey in places that had once been darker, I supposed. He came with two subordinates, whose presence we'd been informed of at the briefing. Younger guys, one with gorgeous eyes and a dark curl down his forehead like a model and one with a baby face and a scrawny beard that was magnificent and hard to miss. The two of them carried a large wooden crate off the train between them and set it heavy on the ground as soon as they were out of the way of the door.

Four officers in identical frou-frou fancy Drachman uniforms stepped off in a clump. Two men, two women, middle-aged and all looking stern with a heck-ton of frown lines that made them look related somehow. Compared to the guy that came off the train after them, though, their frown lines were nothing.

His thick tan boots thudded out of the train. He stood tall but his shoulders were hunched forward like an animal. His scowl was so deep it was almost funny.

It was Scar. I knew it from his forehead. Duh. But, in a way, his expression was even more of a giveaway. Pure displeasure. I'd never met the guy in person myself, but Maes had told me plenty about him and apparently he wasn't the most pleasant of men. Aunt Mei had once mentioned something about him being a nice guy once you got to know him, but I soon learned that the rest of the Elric family didn't feel much the same way. Maes said Scar had killed people because he didn't like that his people had been killed, that it was a ridiculous kind of logic that Scar had taken too long to turn from. He'd killed Aunt Winry's parents and he'd dang murdered the kid I was named after from way back when. Honestly, the man scared me.

Luckily, he stood to the opposite side of the door Maes was on and kept his eyes down like he didn't want to talk. To anyone.

My dad was in front of Maes first with my mother and General Focker and a couple other higher officers who'd come. Maes exchanged salutes like second nature and spoke in low words no one out of range could possibly catch. As I stumbled all nervous through the crowd, I heard Aunt Winry ask Uncle Ed if he'd known Scar was coming.

"Maes!" I called.

Maes looked up from his group and met my eyes like a dart hitting a target. The professionalism dropped like a rock. He pushed through the officers in front of him mid-conversation without the slightest effort to weave through them. There were more than just a few shocked faces as General Elric met me halfway in a run and grabbed me in his arms like the cover of an inspirational Veterans Foundation calendar.

"You're here," he said. "I thought you'd be late."

I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't. As I stared up into his warm, golden eyes, felt the strength of his safe arms cradling me against him, and let the warmth of his corn-breath soak into my face, I found my voice frozen. His body was against my body and he was hugging our baby for the first time without even knowing it. He touched my face and his mouth smiled.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said.

I reached to touch his cheek, pushing up on my toes. He hunched to meet me. My eyelids dropped wearily as I craned my neck and tilted my chin. Someone made a whistling sound in the background and I guessed it was Uncle Al. He'd done that at our wedding kiss, too. I could feel Maes breath on my mouth, but I didn't make it. Instead of kissing him, I sank back on my heels, pressed my forehead into his mouth, and broke into sobs. Loud sobs.

"Oh, God," I said.

Maes switched gears fast, his former more romantic hold melting around me into pure comfort. "I know. I know."

"Damn it," I said.

"I know," he said. "I know, gorgeous. You're okay."

"Bastards!" I cried. "Sons of bitches! I hate doctors!"

"Yeah," he said. "I kind of do too."

My stomach flopped as he held me tighter, but I just squeezed right back. If I puked, I puked.

The Station was still pretty quiet, but there were whispers going around now and lots of them. Which was expected, I guessed. This was the time Maes probably should've been making some kind of speech or announcement to his freshly gathered team. Instead, he was giving a firsthand demonstration of one of the many reasons why the military didn't exactly encourage romantic relations between officers.

"Brigadier General Falman," said Maes. "Take roll and start distributing Northern outerwear to the Central officers. We depart in half an hour." I felt his chin shift against the top of my head as he looked out at the other soldiers. "As soon as you've been accounted for and issued the editions to your uniforms, say your goodbyes and board according to the Brigadier General's seating chart. Team Elric will be led by Lieutenant Colonel Frank Charlie and will be seated in the second car with Team Knox, lead by Major Howard Bale. Investigations officers under Second Lieutenant Selim Bradley will be seated with the independent consultants in car three. Higher officers, Briggs soldiers, and Drachman representatives will remain at the first car. If you are uncertain of orders, which I guarantee you will be at some point during this investigation, approach Brigadier General Falman or, if necessary, me. If you can't bring yourself to ask and prefer to figure it out on your own, go home. You get sloppy and I'll send you packing. No exceptions. Am I clear?"

Thing was, Maes didn't sound like he was bluffing. He sounded like a soldier. I genuinely might've been impressed had he not been holding me close like a hubby during his entire monologue. Still, he got an overwhelmingly resonant chorus of 'yes sirs' immediately after speaking.

I clung to his coat. I realized I wasn't really ready to let go. His arms didn't seem ready either.

"Where am I seated?" I said.

He wrapped his arms over me gentler like a blanket and breathed deep, clear breaths into my hair.

"First car," he said softly. "Next to me."

* * *

**Awww! Maes, you awkward charmer. I want to take you out for gluten-free pizza.**

(double)REPLIES!

RootlessGirl: You can pretty much enter any of my stories with a previously contracted happy ending ;)

Evarria: I like to imagine that Nina was the HQ baby. Y'know, the one the parents always brought to work with them and everyone just passes her around and gave her an honorary title, like, 'Fuhrer Princess Nina'? Roy and Riza and the old team would be all over that.

SilverPedals1402: Nina needs to wear a cat bell so people will no when she enters a room. I have a feeling she'd walk in on less. Dang, I loved all the parental!Mustang's moments, but I needed some Cornstang. You just can't do more than five chapters in a row without a Maes sighting. No.

author12306: Yeah, the more recent chapters are what convinced me I needed to change the rating to 'M' for thematic content. I mean, FL had thematic stuff and gruesome junk all over the place, but a lot of that was flashbacks and nightmares. This FL2 content is a lot 'closer,' y'know?

KTrevo: Roy, Phil, Ed, Al, Braddock, Armstrong, Havoc, Fuery, even Knox in his awkward way; think it's pretty safe to say I have a soft spot for father figures. Omg, Maes is going to be the cutest father ever!

RainFlame: Aw, those are such great ages! All ages are great ages, I guess, but all in their own ways. I love preteens. My brother only just graduated middle school and he made regionals in choir! I was so proud. Such a sweet little voice. Your job is awesome. Congrats.

mixmax300: Roy and Riza are the best team ever. In every aspect of life. "Hey, let's utilize fire alchemy." "Hey, let's turn me into the Fuhrer." "Hey, let's become traitors of our country a few times and then become loyal again to our own gain." "Hey, let's get married and pretend it's not sketchy!" "Hey! Hey, let's raise a traumatized baby!" Classic.

Harryswoman: Aw, man. I can't wait to write Nina-Scar convos. Or just Scar convos in general. He's such and awkward person. I feel like he just wants friends :( Y'know, none of my characters seem to catch a break until the very end, now that I think about it. Aw. And here they thought they were off the hook at the end of Flame Legacy the first.

justaislinn: It makes me so happy how you 'feel' my writing as deeply as you do. That's what I want as a writer. It's like a kind of direct communication I get with my readers. When I publish junk, I plan on changing people with it, like they've gone through everything with my characters and they come out of it knowing something they didn't have before. That's probably a reason I can't resist happy endings. I want every reader to come out feeling inspired, not just like they've read something that was done well.

DanniMaeAnime92: Yeah, sorry. But he's here now! And he's here to stay. That is for sure. Nina just had to figure some things out without Maes coming to her rescue for a while.

EDIT: Omg, I skipped right over replying to Flygrrl's review and then I remembered reading it and I was like, hey, I didn't reply to that one! Flygrrl: Omg, no I have not read Maximum Ride. I've seen the title thrown around on this site by some of my readers, but I never knew what it was about. Thought it was about a motorcycle gang or something. Heh. But that's wild how my story reflects it.

**CHALLENGE: I've been in this funk recently where I have trouble concentrating and I've had trouble staying awake while reading, even reading my own work during editing! So I've taken to doodling current scenes in between writing sessions. At first I was just doing it for me, but now I'm thinking you guys might get a kick out of it, so the doodles for this chapter and the previous are going up on dA as soon as I post this. Check it out by the new link on my profile ('Drawn reviews and junk') if you get a chance!**


	11. Mission Accomplished

**A/N: I will be replying to last chapter's reviews on the update after this. I just wanted to get this up for ya'll asap since it's ready and all. Chapter 11's doodle will be posted with chapter 12's doodle later since I kind of started doodling them on the same paper which counts as spoilers. Heh.**

* * *

Chapter 11: Mission Accomplished

We stood at the edge of the tracks, ready to board. Mom stood at Dad's side as he talked to Uncle Fullmetal about stuff the two seemed to be taking very seriously. Mom had her eyes on me. She hadn't looked away in a while. I could tell if we stayed even half an hour longer than planned, she might just become unsettled enough to demand that my dad keep me back. She didn't know what I was hiding, but she knew there was something. The fact that I wouldn't tell her what it was had to be eating her away.

I considered telling her. Maybe just telling Maes without the wine and baby socks and then telling her before we left the station. But, at this point, what were the chances of her taking it as relieving news? No, it'd be more like supportive evidence as to why I absolutely should not be going to Drachma without her. So, I had to pretend I didn't know she was looking at me.

Maes multi-tasked. One hand was occupied going through some paperwork with Selim and General Focker on the methods of our investigation according to the team at Briggs. The other hand was holding me tight against his side. I kind of wished he'd sit down. I'd gotten up from bed too early. I'd puked too much. I just wanted to close my eyes and more or less conk out.

"The gang sends their regards," I said to Maes, thinking back to my dream.

Maes paused in his conversation with the other officers and looked at me a little surprised.

"The gang?" he said. He knew what I meant. "When?"

"Last night," I said.

He smiled a little disappointed. "Missed them by one night. Damn. You always tell it better right after."

I shrugged a shoulder. "Tell you best I can on the train. Be a long ride."

"You had people over last night?" said Selim. "I thought you said you weren't up for company."

Maes blinked like he'd been snapped out of something and looked at me all confused.

"Wasn't up for your sorry ass," I said. "That's for sure."

Selim laughed. Maes still looked confused seeing as Selim and I had switched the conversation to something he hadn't been around for. General Focker looked maximum displeased. Mostly at me. Like a teacher looking at the troublemaker who'd corrupted his best students. He cleared his throat kind of obnoxious, grabbing back the guys' attention. Maes didn't miss a beat, though. He closed up the folder he'd been holding in his hand and passed it to Selim.

"Go over our itinerary with your team," Maes said. "Then spread out and explain in detail to the other officers. I don't want anyone behind. We start this off clean."

"Sir."

Selim gave a salute and headed in the direction of his train car with a last friendly glance my way. He was usually more rigid with so many higher officers in his proximity, but something had him giddy, out of his element. That seemed to be the case for a lot of people. Like my first time out of Central.

Dad headed over with Mom close behind. He stopped in front of us, right next to General Focker. Dad and Focker had always gotten along so far as I could tell. Focker had once worked closely with Dad's dead friend, Hughes. Dad had this secret respect for people Hughes had liked, according to Mom. Focker just liked my dad because my dad was awesome, according to me. Well, Hughes could've had something to do with it too, I guessed.

"Fuhrer Mustang," Maes said. "Anything outstanding, sir?"

Dad glanced at me and then looked back at Maes. "I'm trusting you to look after my soldiers, General Elric."

Maes nodded. "I intend to, sir. You can have my word on that."

Maes breached etiquette on a slight level by extending his hand to my dad for a casual shake, but my dad seemed to take it well, like he'd hoped for something like it. It was like they were making a deal. Mom frowned like she didn't like the deal, like it wasn't enough.

"Very well," said Dad. He released Maes's hand. "Proceed, General. We'll be in touch the moment you reach Briggs."

Maes nodded. I noticed his arm loosening from me as he turned from the others, but his hand slipped down my arm to grab my hand. Mom's eyes watched us go. Maes pulled me a ways until we were at the first car's entrance. That Scar guy was just feet from me, right where he'd been standing since he'd gotten off fifteen minutes ago. He was scowling maybe a little less deeply while having quiet conversation with Aunt Mei. Still scary. I scooted a little closer to Maes as he shifted his string-bean self to face the people.

Maes's eyes vibrated slightly as he scanned over everyone; soldiers, family, and friends. I watched his gaze pan, taking in the numbers, the faces and temperaments. This was how he handled large amounts of people. He got to know their basic highs and lows and then accommodated his own actions to create a perfect balance.

His eyes stopped vibrating. He'd finished learning his team as a whole. He took a breath, the kind of breath you take before you talk loud to an audience. I squeezed his hand as I anticipated the coming words. But he didn't speak. He let out the breath in a long huff. He looked at the floor.

This was new. His gaze was dropped like he was afraid to look at them. I watched his face and realized the building apprehension. The station was abuzz with voices everywhere, whining, babbling, laughing, and whispering. There was even some excited shouting from Mr. Jean to Mr. Falman. The way Maes's grip on my hand tightened with every wave of louder conversation made me wonder if something was overwhelming him.

I squeezed his fingers. "Orders, sir?"

His eyes shifted to me. Slowly, he lifted his head, a smile crossing his lips. He waited a moment, locked with my gaze. I smiled. Carefully, I loosened my grip on his hand. He swallowed. He let go. He stepped forward.

He took that breath again, this time putting it into one word. "Attention."

The platform was crowded, some people almost shoulder to shoulder. It was loud and frantic. Maes should've had to call for order at least once or twice more before getting a response, especially at the subdued volume he'd chosen to use. But the word was so sharp in the air, the tone so firm. It was like after Maes spoke, all noise and movement melted into nothing. The station quieted. All heads had turned to him within seconds, even the kids.

Maes's expression remained a sturdy kind of empty, his eyes planted fearlessly on the crowd as a whole. "For those of you who are unaware, and God help any of who are unaware after all the time you've had to become familiar with this mission, I am General Maes Elric, certified as the Wielding Alchemist. I have been appointed as the commander of this collective team. Everyone called to be here was either selected or approved by me. That means that none of you boarding this train will be boarding by accident. None of you have the luxury of not filling your designated place on this mission, which, I assure you, _has_ been predetermined and _will_ be demanding to the edge of your capability."

He paused purposefully, taking in expressions. I looked out at everyone with him. Priceless. If there'd been bleachers available, everyone would have been at the edge of their freaking seats.

"I understand," said Maes, "that those of you who came to see this train off may have been told that this is an out of country investigation and not any kind of warzone we're entering into."

Silence.

Maes lowered his tone to something eerily smooth. "This isn't a warzone. Warzones are where we put our lives on the line to protect those safe at home. What we're protecting today is already out in the line of danger and every moment we waste getting to know each other and working out differences is a moment we aren't going to gain back. All this boils down to is that when you do what I say, less people get dead. This isn't a war, but you're sure as hell going to take it like it is. Am I clear?"

It rumbled through the air like thunder. "Yes, General Elric, sir!"

Mom's eyes had softened.

…

The train was moving so fast. So fast, so smooth. The rumble of the tracks under us was enough to lull a girl to sleep. Maes unhooked his left arm from his coat to make his shoulder more comfortable for me to lean on. The cottony fabric of his white button-down was so much softer than the water resistant coat, and his body heat soaked through better with less between us. He pulled the loose part of his coat around me and set to stroking my long hair.

"Better?" he said.

I nodded.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"You sleepy?" I said.

He lifted his arm to do that gesture with his thumb and index finger to indicate, 'a little bit.'

"Sleep," I said.

His eyes shifted to the seats across the aisle and beyond. We'd gotten a bench to ourselves with the seats facing us holding nothing but one half-asleep Phil. People managed to stare at us from all directions nonetheless.

Maes had whispered to me as the train had left the station, 'That's what I get for assigning us to the only car full of people we don't work with.'

See, most of the people at Central Command had gotten to see Maes and I in the service from the beginning, back when we'd been co-leaders of our team together and dating and marrying each other hadn't breached any codes. Our relationship made sense for those who'd seen it go down and my current state of clinginess made sense to all the guys who'd seen me the days before getting all disgruntled about stuff and not having my husband around for support.

These Drachman diplomats and Briggs soldiers, though. They didn't seem happy about the grand investigation leader getting unprofessional with me. Scar didn't seem to give a hoot. According to Maes, Scar hadn't gotten within feet of much of anybody since he'd first boarded the train.

"Just sleep, Maes," I said. "No one's holding it against you."

"I'm not self-conscious," he said. He sighed and rubbed his eye. "Just can't make my head stop thinking. Hm. Guess that's your line."

I chuckled. "Hey!"

He looked down at me and smiled. "I got a laugh out of you. See that? I get points for that."

"You're embarrassed because you snore, right?" I said. "That's the real reason."

Maes yawned, rolling his shoulders back. "That's it. You caught me. You know what a bashful disposition I have, honey."

Says the guy who still goes running around town every time it rains just because he can.

"You want to sleep?" he said.

"What's on your mind?" I said.

He let out a short laugh. "God. What isn't?"

"Peanut butter."

"Well, now it is."

My mouth turned down as my stomach did a flip. Shouldn't have brought up food. Now I wanted corn and that thought just got me feeling queasier.

"Hey," said Maes, giving me a gentle jiggle that churned my guts. "You okay?"

"Seriously, what's on your mind?" I said. "You said we'd talk about stuff once we were on the train."

He nodded and leaned his head back with a sigh. "Yeah, well, you already know the part about who's been giving me orders lately."

"Briggs. Right. Got that info in the briefing."

Maes's arm shrugged with chuckles. "No, see, Briggs is fine. Since our alliance with Drachma, those guys have really calmed down. It's General Armstrong I'm scared of."

I blinked. "Scared? You?"

"She hates me."

"Hates you? No one hates you. Ever!"

"She does," he said with a shrug. "God help me, she does. Haven't even met the woman in person yet, but one phone conversation was all it took. Apparently I'm too soft, even worse than my old man. That's a gentler version of what she said, anyway." He was staring out his window looking genuinely sad. Poor guy wasn't used to people disliking him. "I don't blame her," he said. "Some people just don't get along, you know? I just…guess I figured _we_ would." He smiled a little. "Grandma used to talk about her, the two of them kicking ass together, being tough and devoted. Grandma would tell me at the end that she wished she could take Sophie and me up North to show us off to General Armstrong and the guys at Briggs. Kind of implied I wouldn't ever be good to do that, if you get what I mean."

I nodded. "I get what you mean."

He was saying in code that everyone had been justifiably convinced back then that he'd die before he was healthy enough to make it all the way up North to visit anyone. He said it low and vague because not too many people military or otherwise in our current acquaintance knew his story and we liked it that way. Besides the fact that him now being healthy was for sketchy reasons, Maes just didn't like talking about his illness, or the looks that came after talking about his illness.

"Anyway." Maes puffed out a breath. "Don't tell Grandma, okay? She just took it as given that General Armstrong would love me. You know how Grandma is."

"I know."

"I swear," Maes said with a grimace. "First time I had Armstrong on the phone, I started introducing myself and telling her how it's good to _finally_ work together. But no. What she does is cut me off partway through my father's name saying she doesn't want to hear about mutual acquaintances. She likes to judge people for herself. Oh, and by the way, I failed that judgment right off the bat."

I giggled into my hand. He really was completely not okay with this. He didn't like being disliked!

"You can't stand it, can you?" I said. "Being hated?"

"Well," he said, "not when it's for no good reason, I guess."

I yawned. "Seriously? I deal with people hating me for no good reason all the time. Including General Ice Bitch."

I heard a snort of stifled laughter from a few seats over and realized Maes and I had gotten loud enough to be overheard clearly by other passengers. Maes didn't seem to give a darn.

"She hates you?" he said. "Why? You're great!"

"Duh," I said. "I make my dad happy and Ice Bitch hates my dad. It all goes full circle, you get me?"

Maes frowned. "Damn it. This is ridiculous." His eyes darted to his knees like he was afraid to hit me with his glare. "At a time like this? Someone with her kind of authority has the nerve to play difficult? It's disgusting."

I gulped. His tone was turning to a pitch he rarely ever used. It was the low voice spoken through a tight jaw. This was the last level of restraint he had before he was ready to lash out. His eyes were distant and hard. He was glaring at _her_.

"I'll be glad to get in and out of Briggs," he said. "That woman can defend a wall, but she has no business saving lives. She's seen the files. She knows exactly what we're dealing with, and all she's ever interested in is how my recent promotion was farcical and this business in Drachma isn't her country's problem. All these years and she still thinks she's Fuhrer. If her motto still stands as survival of the fittest, she is certainly seeing that through. If it weren't for my constant triangulating between Briggs and Drachma's Prime Minister, this mission would have taken months to proceed with. All those kids out there being mistreated, just waiting on us to…"

I grabbed his hand and squeezed really intensely hard. "Shut up!"

Maes winced. "Ow!"

"Listen to yourself," I hissed. "Brooding like a total dumb bunny. What good does that do? So some General wasn't all she was cracked up to be. So she's screwing with stuff you're taking personal. Toughen up! It's not your job to get mad right now, Maes. You're a general too, remember? You don't mope about her being a poor authority figure. You _are_ an authority figure. You are _the_ authority figure right now. You pick up the slack where she fails and you keep picking up the slack until the job's done. You're a soldier. Civilians get to gripe about their nation's problems. Soldiers take action to solve them. That's the way it is."

Maes stared at me with big gold eyes. He massaged the hand I'd squeezed too tight like maybe I'd really made it sore. I suddenly felt bad for getting harsh plus physical reprimand. I took his fingers gently and lifted his hand to my lips to kiss it better. He watched me, a small smile creeping onto his face.

"Thanks," he said. "I needed that."

I kissed his hand again and laid it in his lap. "You'd be surprised by how many awful people there are in this world, Maes. We have a choice. Curse the villains or become something kind of like heroes."

He pulled his arm around me, lovely and warm. "You've got it all figured out."

I pressed my cheek against him. "You do too, baby. I see it in your actions. Doesn't matter whether you have it straight in your thoughts yet."

"You're sweet."

"I'm serious."

"I know," he said. "You're probably right."

"Look, Maes," I said. I fiddled with his sleeve. "I know you never got to do gym class growing up, but try to imagine that you wielded that height of yours to climb up to team captain of the Risembool high school varsity basketball team."

Maes knit his brow. "I don't think Risembool had anything close to that available to high school students. Or to anyone else."

"Shut up," I said. "Just imagine."

"I'm trying." He looked to the side. "I read a book on water polo once."

"It's basketball!" I said. "We're going to go with basketball, okay? That's, like, the only sport I know how to play."

"Which is surprising coming from my four-foot-eleven young wife."

"I'm five foot!"

"You jest." He smirked. "You're not even up to my shoulder."

"Because you keep growing!" I said. "It's not my fault your body still thinks you're a teenager!"

"Hey, Dad didn't quit growing until he was twenty-five years old. It's completely natural."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure thing, string bean."

"Did you mean for that to rhyme?"

I groaned. "Damn, forget it! Just bear with me. You're the captain of a team. So, you've got some coaches. Dad, Briggs, the higher-ups in Central, the Prime Minister in Drachma, whatever. They're our team's coaches. They give our team the orders. You're our team captain. You take those orders from the coaches and you decide how you want our team to carry them out. Don't get wrapped up in the coaches taking away your control or slowing you down. In the end, you run this operation. You're not one to let details snag your mind when you've got the end in sight."

Maes stared at me. His expression sank. He hugged his arm tight enough around my waist to make my already unsteady stomach churn. He didn't seem to notice my cringe. He nuzzled the top of my head, just breathing hot breath into my hair.

"End in sight?" he said. "I want to know what that looks like to you."

"You've been there," I said softly. I was pretty sure he'd know I was referring to the green afterlife my twenty-nine friends lived in.

His hand held tight against my back. "I mean how do you want things to end up here? For survivors, Nina."

"Not in a lab," I said. "We'll start with that."

Maes turned his voice down to a whisper and he spoke close to my ear. "They aren't Amestrian citizens. We're going to save them, but," he took a nervous breath, "once they're out of the labs, they're out of my jurisdiction. What if we get them out and they end up in bad hands again or they don't get proper care? You remember how hard it was for you to bounce back, and you had some of the best parents on the planet doting over you…"

I clamped my hand over his mouth. My eyes darted to check for listening ears. He'd been awful quiet, but I didn't see how it was close to being worth the risk, talking in the open about my past. I let go of his mouth and he looked completely sorry.

"Never mind," he said.

"No," I said. I touched his cheek. "It's good you're thinking that far ahead. You just feel too much, Maes."

"I should dial that down."

"No. You should put those pansy feelings to good use. They call it, 'drive.'"

He leaned his face against my hand. "Good point. You've got pansy-feelings oozing out your ears and you're the most driven person I've ever met."

"You bet your skinny ass." I smiled and kissed his chin. "It's going to be fine, Maes."

He sighed. "Damn it. That was supposed to be my line to you, wasn't it?"

"Who says we can't both just say it to each other?"

"You think of everything." He paused and stared at me a little closer. He blinked. "All that crying's really made you blotchy. It looks like a spider sucked out all your blood but it ran off before it get to your nose and eyes."

I knew a compliment when I heard one. "Thanks, baby. You're looking good today too."

"Damn, I love you."

I sank against him and took a deep, sleepy breath. "Damn, I love you too. Listen, Maes?"

"Mm?"

"About tonight." I traced circles on his chest with my finger. "I know we're only stopping off at Briggs to regroup, but since we're staying the night, I thought maybe you and I could have some time to ourselves."

I heard him chuckle. "You're speaking my language. We've got some catching up to do."

Oh, you have no idea, Papa.

I closed my eyes and sighed. That tattoo of mine had finally started to settle down. It was still a little raised, but the itching had stopped, and that meant the initial healing was about done. One more week and Sophie would let me try it out. Hands-free direct soul contact between baby and mommy would be mine. It would be closer than any transmutation I could pull off with my bare hands. I'd do it with my soul and it would be just like Phil said! I'd get to know my baby months before anyone else! It would be perfect! Screw waiting nine months to meet my kid. I was an instant-gratification kind of girl! Bwahahaha!

"Hey, Nina," Maes spoke softly, but it was enough to jar me from my doze.

I looked out the window and realized I may have sunken into more than just a doze. The sky was warm-looking, warm like afternoon. Jeez, how long had I been conked? Ugh, I felt not so good. I noted Phil was napping again, this time in a different position more resembling a high school guy lying back lazy and cool. Most of the rest of the car seemed pretty docile too, but what else was new?

Maes swallowed. "Sorry. Didn't mean to disturb you. I just…I can't stop thinking about, well, what we talked about the night before I took off?"

I sucked my lip. Oo. "It'll work itself out, Maes. We've got other stuff to worry about."

"No, you don't understand," he said with a lowered voice. "I've been thinking about it a lot, and I'm starting to wonder if we should even be trying for our own kids. What if we do fix the problem and we do get pregnant? What next? Forget the kind of risk pregnancy and childbirth would put you through with your back. Whatever happened to make me sick all those years could've been genetic. What if I pass that down and we have a child that's waiting to die from its first breath? I can't do that, Nina. It's cruel. It's hell on earth. It's supposed to be over!"

"Dear God. You forget who you're talking to!" I sniffled. "Supposed to be over? You're the worst. You're the absolute worst!"

I'd switched to full volume pretty abrupt and, besides Maes kind of jolting with surprise and looking super devastatingly pale, heads were definitely turning and even Phil was snorting awake.

"Nina?" said Maes. He pretty much looked like he could cry.

"You jerk!" I said, standing. "You freaking dang meanie! I pretty much hate you sometimes occasionally! You're as bad as my mother!"

Maes's face crumpled all sad. "You're crying."

I rubbed my eye. "Of course I'm crying! I'm pregnant, you idiot!"

It was like every living thing in our car froze. Not a single whisper. Phil had his small green eyes pinned on me not quite as small as usual. The only movement in the car seemed to be my quaking body as I failed to stifle loud tears that just kept getting louder. Maes watched me in perfect stillness, his breath trapped in his chest as his gaping mouth found itself speechless. The more he looked, the longer he was quiet, the harder it became for me to stop crying. The nausea mounted.

"And know what sucks?" I sobbed. "Found out I was a sick baby too! Now our kid's definitely going to die!"

Maes stood. "Are you kidding? I spent the past two weeks trying to make being barren a good thing and that was the best I came up with. We figured out how to reverse that shit three years ago. You serious? We did it?"

My lip trembled. I put my hand on my tummy. "Um, yeah...w-we did it."

Maes's face ripped into a grin. "We seriously did it?"

I sniffled, "We," my mouth quivered into a smile, "seriously did it."

He put his hand on my tummy like a doofus. He bent to get closer. "When did this happen? When's it due? How'd you know? The doctor? You braved the doctor without me? I don't believe it!"

"I felt it, dummy," I whispered in a laugh. I put my hands over his. "I felt its soul spark. About fifteen minutes after you left me at HQ, to be exact. I tried going after you, but your train had already left—"

Maes caught me in a kiss and then we just kind of put a hold on the conversation from there. I could kind of hear movement and whispering around us now mingling with the rumbling of the train on the tracks. I caught a glance of Phil cracking up in his seat. Maes sank onto our bench and pulled my down on his lap. Damn, he tasted like corn. He tasted like sweet yellow corn fresh off the cob with butter! Mm, he smelled like it too.

He hugged my waist and pulled me closer. His body squeezed against mine. My heart raced and my stomach lurched. I pulled away and grabbed my mouth. Okay, corn flavor bad. Corn flavor bad right now.

"What's wrong?" Maes said, loosening his arms. "Did I hurt you?"

I leaned against him and shook my head. "Morning sickness. Started yesterday. Can't seem to shake it."

"Morning sickness?" said Maes. He looked at me. "Like, the pregnancy kind? That's amazing!"

I groaned.

"I mean," he looked away, "no, it's not."

My body quaked in a gentle laugh. "I love you."

He stroked my long hair with a light touch that told me he was maybe sort of afraid to make me puke but couldn't resist touching me all the same. "When were you going to tell me?"

"Duh," I said. "Tonight at Briggs. Had an evening planned." I sent a wink Phil's way and he smiled all cute and pleased.

"Aw," said Maes. "Can you do it anyway? Like, pretend I don't know yet?"

I patted his chest. "Whatever floats your boat."

"Yay!" Maes paused. "Um, I was going to ask if you'd told anyone yet, but then I remembered it was you and thought I'd ask who haven't you told."

I rolled my eyes. "Have you no faith?"

"In you keeping something like this to yourself for two weeks? Is that a trick question?"

I caught Phil laughing again. "Oh, shut up, baldy."

Maes puffed out a breath. "Okay, so he knew. Who else?"

"I told Sophie, okay?" I frowned. "The rest just kind of…figured it out."

"Ah," said Maes. I could hear the smile in his voice. "Figured it out. I should've guessed that."

"Shush."

"Who 'figured it out'?"

"No one," I said. I shrugged. "Just, you know, like, some people. Your…your mom figured it out when I asked her for your first pair of baby-socks. I was going to use them tonight when I…"

"I thought we agreed that tonight would be a surprise, Nina."

"Right," I said.

"Who else?"

"Just the guys on the team."

"All of them?" Maes sounded a little stunned.

"Not your dad."

"But the rest of them?" he said. "They know?"

"Yeah."

"That's really unfair," Maes moped.

"I know," I said. "Sorry. I really did want you to be the first to know, but then you never answered my calls and you took so long getting home…"

"No, I mean, I wish I could've been there to see the looks on their faces, you know? I'll bet Charlie was hilarious."

I snorted. "Oh, man. I think his reaction was the best, actually. Looked like a kid watching his sandcastle fall."

"How'd my sister take it?" said Maes excitedly. "I'll bet she was pretty ecstatic."

"Honestly?" I said. "She's been the next best thing to having you around. It's been tough, you know? So much happening? Your Sophie's a real gem to have as a friend."

Maes's whole demeanor kind of sobered. He patted my knee. "Good thing I asked her to stay with you, then."

I nodded. He was feeling guilty now. I could tell by his voice, but I wasn't sure what to say that wouldn't make him more convinced he'd done something wrong. I leaned my cheek into his shoulder nice and comforted to show I really liked having him around for me to snuggle. He seemed to get the message and wrapped his arms loosely around me for a hug.

"Your parents don't know?" he said.

"They would've taken me off the mission, Maes," I said.

"Yeah," he said. "They were looking for an excuse. This would've been it."

My brow pinched. "Dad too?"

"Not out loud."

I nodded. "I got you."

"Can't blame them," said Maes.

I breathed. With me on Maes's lap, his arms around me hugging me and our baby at the same time, I got this sharp memory of Mom and Dad sitting on either side of me in Mom's office the day before. That's how they'd always been. Anytime we were anywhere, they were always one on either side of me, like protective barriers keeping me safe from all the crap they knew was out there. The first time I'd left those walls, I'd gotten really, really hurt. And they'd gotten to me just in time to see it happen. I hunched as my mind wandered back to the look on my mom's face at the station while she'd racked her brain for a way to convince me not to go.

"No," I said. "No, I can't blame them either."

* * *

**Next post should be within the week since I already wrote most of it :D**


	12. Black and White

**A/N: Hey ya'll! Chapter 11/12 chapter-doodles are going up on dA today, and they're freaking hilarious XD**

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Black and White

The train ride wore on and me and Maes didn't get bored with our news. Not even close. We talked about how my mom would react when she heard it and then we spent a full half hour cracking each other up about how my dad's reaction would go down. That earned some muffled laughs from others on the train. We talked about how it would be if it was a girl and how it would be if it was a boy. We talked about names until Maes started making suggestions like 'Cleopatra.' We talked about having lots and lots more babies just because we could. We decided Phil would be an honorary uncle just like our father in-laws were to us and Phil said we'd made his week. We decided our kids would have way too many uncles if we made all our friends honorary uncles, so we decided our research team members would have sweet, informal titles like I'd had for my parents' old team. Frank Charlie was already Mr. Hotdog, hands down.

Somewhere in the midst of all this speculating, one of the stewardesses in her tight skirt and curled red hair came down the aisle with drinks and snacks. She was a dang pretty thing, maybe late twenties with really scary white teeth. She spoke with some kind of lisp, so when she asked if people wanted fresh instant coffee, it came out sounding totally weird and brilliant.

A little boy holding a water pitcher with both hands followed her. He was freaking adorable and kind of not serving much purpose since no one seemed to be interested in plain old water. He followed nonetheless, looking dutiful as he asked passengers if they wanted a glass of water with their other junk. He was clearly Ishvalan and some of the passengers in our car seemed to take notice. Well, Scar did. It was relatively creepy. He gave this kid the most meaningful look I'd seen him give anyone since I'd first gazed upon his frowning face, and something told me Scar wasn't doing it because he particularly loved kids. He turned down the water, but kept his eyes on the boy as he moved on. The Drachman escorts gave the boy some cold looks that I kind of assumed were because they seemed like altogether constipated people, but Scar glared at them like they'd done it because the kid was Ishvalan. The boy didn't seem to give a darn. Just kept on with his job. He smiled biggest when Falman tipped him with a grin even though he didn't get water. Mr. Falman was pretty pleasant with everybody and he'd known just how to make me laugh when I was a kid, though I wasn't sure he ever really did it on purpose.

The redhead stewardess finally made it over to our seats and flashed us her hospitable, terrifying smile. "Good afternoon. I'm Kelly Mitchell, your train attendant today. May I interest any of you in some drinks or snacks? We have black tea, fresh instant coffee, mixed nuts, and a selection of chips."

"Coffee," said Phil with a polite nod. "Thanks."

"Of course," she said with her gorgeous lisp.

As she mixed his instant coffee, her eyes side-glanced a few times to the wonderful vision of Major Mustang seated on the General's lap. She smiled a little like she wanted to smile more and focused back on the coffee.

"Sugar? Cream?" she said as she handed him his gross brew.

"No, thanks," said Phil.

She looked at me and Maes and fought a smile again. I lifted my hand and showed her my ring like I'd read her thoughts.

"We haven't seen each other in a while," I said.

"Very sweet," she said.

"Um, ma'am?" said Maes. "Those chips you mentioned; would any of them happen to be corn chips?"

"Yes, of course," she said. She bent over her cart full of snacks and started going through. "Would you prefer cheese-flavored or original?"

"Original, please," said Maes.

"Me too," I said. "Don't want no cheese inhibiting the corn in the corn chip, am I right?"

"Right," said the stewardess.

Maes shot his gaze at me. "Huh?"

"What?" I said.

"You asked for corn chips."

"Um, yes. I did."

He knit his brow. "Were you sneaking extra for me? That's kind, but it's against the rules to get double."

I frowned, face burning. "Well, don't worry. They aren't for you. I…I've been…craving…corn."

Maes's jaw dropped. "This is the best day of my life."

"You would say that." I rolled my eyes to the side. "Jeez. Would you quit looking at me like that? It's like I'm telling you I'm pregnant all over again."

"Oh!" said the stewardess. "Congratulations to you both." She smiled even wider and whiter than before as she handed us our bags of chips. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Water," said Maes. "Thanks."

"Me too," I said. "I puked my guts out all morning before heading to the station. I've got to be dehydrated to hell."

Maes turned me on his lap to look at me better. I was about to tell him not to make me woozy, but he was inspecting my face so hard that I was afraid of thwarting him by moving my mouth.

"I knew you were looking blotchy," he said. "Seriously? All morning? Damn. You did taste a little gross."

"I told you I'd been doing the morning sickness thing since yesterday," I said with a pout.

"You said you'd been feeling nauseas. You didn't say you'd been sick."

"Oh, yeah. Um, I totally barfed behind my mom's office couch. And in the recycling bin in our office right before you called that one time?"

"Wait," said Maes. "Was it that grey couch?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, good." He shuddered. "I mean, it was comfy enough, but the fabric was really scratchy. It won't be a loss if she has to get it reupholstered."

"My thoughts exactly," I said. "Believe me. I aimed."

I heard some cackling coming from just ahead. I looked over to see our stewardess, Kelly, step aside to allow that little Ishvalan boy down the aisle with the water pitcher. He was cracking up with his face turned down to hide his laughs as best he could. Kelly looked a little embarrassed and a little bit amused herself. He got to us and spoke, trying not to laugh as much.

"Water, sir?" He held up the water pitcher.

"I'd love some," said Maes with a gentle smile. "But ladies first, kiddo."

The boy shook his head like he'd just remembered. "That's right. Sorry. Water, ma'am?"

"You're adorable," I said.

"That means 'yes' for her," said Maes.

As the little boy poured our water, he started kind of laughing again. He seemed to fight it as long as he had the water so as to avoid splashing, but then he got the glasses in our hands and he just cracked up.

"Did you really throw up on your mother's couch on purpose?" he said.

I shrugged and sipped my water. "Who could say?"

He laughed more. His laughter was contagious; sweet and giggly and all boy. I just wanted to kiss his bronzed cheeks and take him out for hot chocolate. Maes seemed to be thinking on similar terms, because he looked up at our stewardess and said, "Hey, we're your last car to serve, right? You've got other attendants serving the others. Do you mind if he rides with us for a while, ma'am? I mean, if he wants."

The kid's eyes practically popped out of his head. He looked up at Kelly.

Kelly sighed. "Well, if it's General Elric's orders."

The boy looked back at Maes. Maes nodded. "Oh, yes. General Elric's orders."

"Awesome!" said the boy.

I patted the bench where I had been seated before I'd relocated to Maes's lap. "Come sit, sweetie. Promise if I have to puke, I'll aim toward Phil."

I heard Phil grunt into his sloshy coffee.

Kelly took the pitcher from the boy in one hand and pushed her cart away with the other, kind of proving how unnecessary the kid's role was in the setup. I wondered what he was doing on a train in the middle of winter working a job no one needed worked. He sat in my empty seat and smiled.

"Wow," he said. "This car's really quiet compared to the others."

Maes laughed. "Probably because I assigned Team Elric to seat with Team Knox. Tell me, kiddo. They killed each other yet?"

"If they did," said the boy, "they covered it up really well. I didn't see a thing. You've got some talented men, sir."

Maes and I cracked up.

"How old are you?" said Maes.

"I'm ten," he said like he was proud to say it. "How old are you, sir?"

Maes answered without hesitation. "I'm twenty-one years old as of last September."

The kid looked at me. He looked back at Maes. "How old is she?"

"Twenty-four," said Maes.

The boy looked utterly shocked. "She's older than you?"

Maes shrugged. "I have a thing for older women."

"That's weird," said the boy.

"Maes is weird," I said. "Hey, baby, what's your name?"

He blinked at me. "You know, it's pretty impolite not to give yours first."

Good point. "My name's Nina," I said. "But you get to call me Miss Nina, okay?"

"Nice to meet you, Miss Nina," said the boy with a little bow of his head. "I'm Emmett."

"Aw!" I said. "You're my favorite!"

Emmett looked confused. "Your favorite what?"

"Not even she knows that," said Maes with a shake of his head.

Emmett looked between the two of us. "You two are married, right?"

"Uh," I said, "yeah. Trust me. Maes doesn't let any of his other subordinates sit on him like this." I looked at Maes. "That I know of, at least."

Emmett laughed. "Good. You guys are weird. You really belong together."

Maes's gold eyes practically glowed. "Thank you, Emmett."

I opened my bag of chips and nibbled one of the ends. I realized Maes was watching me with wonder and I frowned.

"Shut up," I said.

Maes shook his head. "I wasn't going to say anything."

"You were thinking it," I said.

"Yeah," Maes laughed. "But I wasn't going to say."

"I admit it, okay?" I said. "Corn is kind of delicious."

"I didn't say a thing," said Maes with a sly grin.

Emmett stared at us. "She didn't used to like corn?"

"Corn's my favorite food," Maes explained. "Mrs. Elric's not a fan, but my baby's making her crave it. Isn't that neat?"

Emmett sat up straighter, eyes wide open to me. "So, there's really a baby inside you?"

The way he was smiling up at me, so dang excited at the mere mention of new life, made my eyes ache for a moment with hormonal tears.

"Yeah, Emmett," I said. "There's a baby inside me."

"Ew, gross!" said Emmett. "That's fantastic! You're so lucky."

"I know, right?" I said. "It's pretty much the best."

"How'd it get there?" said Emmett. He leaned on his armrest. "Um, I mean, how does that work? I've asked all the train staff, but they don't know either."

I felt Maes's muscles tense under me. Phil coughed. Emmett waited.

"You know about it," said kiddo with round red eyes, "right, Miss Nina?"

"Well," I said, "it goes like this…"

Maes cleared his throat really noticeable.

I leaned my chin on my fist. "See, Emmett, humans are pretty dang amazing creatures. Alchemists and researchers of all kind have been trying to figure out how to make people with their hands, but know what? There's only ever been one thing that's ever started a human life."

Maes gripped my knee like he wanted me to go no further. I ignored him. Emmett's eyes didn't leave me.

"It's a soul," I said. "Human life starts with a soul. You're going to learn more about how souls happen as you grow older, Emmett, but that's not really the point. The great thing about babies is they come from almost nowhere. Something as big and significant as a human soul sparks to life in a fraction of a moment. All the sudden, there's one more person on the earth than there was the second before."

"That's…incredible," said Emmett. "That's how all babies happen?"

I nodded. I put my hand flat over my stomach. "My job as a mommy right now is to protect this life inside while it grows."

"Like a nest," said Emmett. "It's like you're a mama bird and your tummy's a nest. You keep your baby bird safe and sound until it's ready to fly."

"Hey, exactly," I said. "Know what? That's pretty much what my mom said to me when she was explaining this stuff. She said mommies were like nests."

Emmett got sidetracked for a moment. He broke eye contact with me and looked across to Phil. I looked over with him and covered my mouth to keep from laughing. Phil was hiding it pretty good, I supposed, but he was totally weeping with a proud glow.

"They grow up so fast," said Maes. "Huh, Major Thomas?"

Phil grunted. "Mm. Yes, sir."

Emmett pulled my sleeve. "Is that man alright?"

"He's fine," I said. "He's just proud."

"Of you?" said Emmett. I nodded. Emmett wrinkled his brow a little baffled. "Is he your dad?"

"He's my bodyguard," I said. "He's been looking out for me for a few years. We're buds."

Emmett raised a brow. "You're a soldier. What do you need a bodyguard for?"

"She's more brains than brawn, kiddo," said Maes.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm the Fuhrer's daughter, Emmett. I've had guard details tailing me off and on since I was seven years old. Brawn," I looked at Maes, "has nothing to do it."

Emmett stood out of his seat. "The Fuhrer's daughter?"

I looked up at him. His sparkling eyes danced over me like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He looked positively delighted. He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Wow, so you're, like," he laughed, "a princess or something!"

I giggled. Maes chuckled under me like rolling thunder. "No, kiddo. Princesses tend to do what they're told. Nina's a King."

Emmett blinked. "Can I please call you _King Nina_ instead of _Miss Nina_? It's terrifying."

"Hell, yeah!" I said.

Phil cleared his throat. "May I call you _King Nina_ as well, Major Mustang?"

Maes nodded and mouthed, "Do it," to Phil.

As we laughed together about my new title, I accidentally met Scar's eyes all the way over where he was seated. It sent a shiver through me, the glare in his gaze. He didn't look away in spite of my catching him. It made me wonder. How long had he been watching us like a total creep? Had this Scar guy ever stopped watching Emmett since he'd come in with the pitcher? Was he monitoring us around his countryman? No, that was overanalyzing and it sounded like an opinion influenced by Maes's dislike of all people who'd made his mother cry.

I kind of spoke without thinking. "Emmett. That's not an Ishvalan name, is it?"

I felt Maes's eyes on me. We'd had some heart-to-heart talks about me needing to have some racial sensitivity. Like Ishvalan culture being a little sensitive about their names. Emmett didn't seem fazed, though.

"No, it's Amestrian," he said. "My parents spent a lot of time in East City before they had me and moved back to Ishval. They wanted me to grow up in our culture, you know? They couldn't talk themselves out of naming me _Emmett_, though. In case I ever wanted to move to East City for higher education. Ishvalans tend to be a little more tolerant of Amestrian names than some Amestrians are of Ishvalan names."

I rolled my eyes. "Ugh, I know! What's with that? I had a pal in middle school who ended up switching to homeschool halfway through the year because she couldn't take the bullies. She had a beautiful name! I mean, I couldn't pronounce it, but still! It was nothing to make fun of. It was a masterpiece. And so is Emmett, by the way. You have a very nice name."

Emmett looked confused. "Your friend got bullied? I thought Fuhrer Mustang was an advocate for Ishvalan Rights."

Scar looked severe. I laughed.

"Oh, baby." I ruffled Emmett's snowy hair. "You ever been to school? You ever been anywhere? I swear, people will find a reason to hate other people no matter who you are or where you're from or just whatever. Ishvalan Rights aren't the problem."

Emmett waited. He was giving me his undivided attention, leaning and listening. I couldn't help but smile. Then I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked up to see Scar coming to a stand. Oh, sh—

"You need to shut your mouth," Scar said.

Scar's voice wasn't particularly raised, but it was low and husky. It rumbled from him. Emmett jumped in his skin like he hadn't noticed Scar had even been paying attention. My hands trembled as he spoke on.

"Ishvalan Rights aren't a problem?" said Scar. "I can't listen to this a moment longer. You're honestly going to look this child in the eye and tell him your people are past their ways?"

Gently, Maes pulled me from his lap and stood from me to leave me in his seat with Emmett. He met Scar's eyes with a sternness that reminded me he was a General as well as my hubby.

"Take your seat," said Maes. "We'll be at Fort Briggs soon enough. I'd prefer limited conflict up to that point."

Emmett gripped my arm and looked at me like he barely knew what was going on, but he knew enough to be scared. I patted his hand and forced a smile.

Scar carried on with Maes, saying, "Is this a joke? You call yourself a General then you spend this entire journey publicly indulging in inappropriate behavior with your spouse and you expect me to take you seriously now? I'm not on this train to take orders, especially not from a brat with a big badge. You think authority from your country's military means half a damn to me?"

Maes stepped forward, hands fisting at his sides. "I think firm words from a man who prefers peace opposed to otherwise would suit you fine. As for what you do and do not take seriously, I've watched my mother cry for her parents since I was a child and she hasn't stopped doing it yet. Needless to say, I don't like you very much, Scar. If you speak that way to my wife again, you will walk off this train limping. Take that seriously. I don't give a shit about my badge either."

I half-expected retaliation from Scar. By the way Emmett held tighter to my arm and the way Phil's hand touched his gun, I guessed I wasn't the only one. But Scar just stood there, frown lines in tact, but frown not so much. He gaped, features blanked, eyes locked on Maes's face. Maes glared back. Then Scar did something weird. He took a step forward and squinted at Maes like he could barely see him. Maes held his ground, but I could tell by the crease in his brow that he was uncomfortable as Scar studied him. Scar blinked his eyes. He stepped back and I realized the stillness in his gaze was shock.

"You," he said. "You're Winry Rockbell's son?"

Maes looked like he could kill. "Don't say her name."

"Now I see," said Scar. "Yes, I'd heard you were related to the Fullmetal Alchemist. I should've guessed it would be her."

Maes narrowed his eyes coldly. "Take your seat. You get off at Briggs."

Maes sat down next to me without another look Scar's way. Scar didn't say another word and I quit looking up to see if he was watching. Emmett never let go of my arm. Maes was quiet for a while before mumbling to me about Scar only being on the train because General Miles, an Ishvalan buddy of Scar's, had asked for him to come. Miles needed Scar to discuss some stuff not related to our mission in Drachma in the slightest. That meant we only had to deal with Scar until we left Briggs. That also meant Scar wasn't on a mission he probably would've ruined anyway. I kind of smiled big with relief at that.

Even so, Maes wasn't the same after that. He looked like he was so bothered it exhausted him. After talking to me about the situation with Scar, Maes just sort of laid his head back and stared at the ceiling of the car with dead eyes. It was like he'd said earlier. So tired, but too much on his mind to sleep. I rubbed his knee all soothing while Emmett and I kept up a conversation between us.

"I knew what you were saying," said Emmett. "I'm not stupid. That man didn't have to butt in for my sake."

"He's sensitive," I said. "He's seen stuff, you know?"

Emmett hunched. "So have I. I've seen plenty."

"Oh?"

He nodded. "My first trip to East City with my parents, there was this old woman on the train with us. She saw our red eyes and she got really angry, something about her son dying in the Civil War. I think she was a little nuts. My parents must've thought she was harmless since she was so old, but she had a gun in her purse. You get it? An Amestrian killed my parents right in front of me."

I had this mom-reflex going on and pulled my arms around Emmett totally cozy. The sun was low in the sky now and his soft white hair glowed orangey at the tips where the light hit.

"That," I said, "blows."

"Know what?" said Emmett. "My parents weren't the only ones who died. Before that old lady shot them, one of the attendants saw it going on from the back of the car. She got to the old lady first and tried to stop her. The attendant died first. Then my parents. Then the old lady saw me and she put her gun down because I was just a kid."

Emmett was telling this all very straight, but his voice was overly logical and his body had a slight tremor to it. I knew what traumatized children looked like. I definitely knew.

"And then Miss Kelly and Miss Millie," said Emmett, "They were that attendant's cousins and they were good friends, see? When their cousin died, they had a bed leftover at their apartment, so they asked me to come live with them since I didn't have anyone left. And now I'm not as much of an orphan as I might have been, understand? Nothing's black and white. That man thinks it's sick for you to minimize Ishvalan Rights? I think he needs to see how many other wonderful things there are in the world to get mad about."

"I think you're right," I said. I stroked his hair. "I think you're too old to be ten."

Emmett clung to my uniform. "My dad used to tell me that. Well, it stopped at '_too old to be six.'_"

"You were six?" I said.

He nodded.

"I was three." I eased off hugging him. "Like, you knew I was adopted, right? That's semi-general knowledge."

He looked at me. "Your parents were killed?"

I looked at my knees. More like the other way around. "Yeah, something like that."

"You saw?"

I ran my hand through my hair. "Yeah, baby. I saw." I looked at him and smiled. "But I got better. And know what? My new mommy and daddy are pretty much as good as they come. It all turned out more or less perfect."

Emmett stared at me. "You still seem pretty bothered, King Nina."

I shrugged. "Perfect isn't always perfect."

He puffed a breath. "Too true."

I patted his back. I sighed.

"Hey," I said. "About what we were talking about earlier, about my Ishvalan classmate getting bullied? Well, Scar changed what I said. I didn't say Ishvalan Rights weren't a problem anymore. I said Ishvalan Rights weren't the problem in this instance, you get me?"

"Yeah, I heard you right the first time." Emmett paused. "You were going to say something else after that, right?"

"I was going to say I got bullied all through elementary school too." I shrugged. "Pre-kindergarten through senior year of high school. I was bullied too. I didn't get to drop out, though. My parents were pretty busy being soldiers and all, so I had to stay."

Emmett gaped. "You're kidding, right?"

"Absolutely not," I said. "I didn't have the easiest childhood before my parents adopted me, you know? I was a little messed up, not to mention completely short and skinny. Fun-sized freaks get picked on pretty easy no matter who they are."

"Your dad's the Fuhrer!" said Emmett. "Why didn't he do anything?"

"Same reason he didn't do anything about all the kids picking on my classmate about her name."

"Huh?"

"My dad's the Fuhrer," I said. "He's not God. He advocates Ishvalan Rights like the dickens, but verbal abuse isn't necessarily a case of Ishvalan Rights. It's freedom of speech, you know? The kids at school weren't breaking laws by being mean. It's not like they beat anyone up. They were just a bunch of brats trash-talking. That was their crime and sorting that out was more the teacher's job than the Fuhrer's. You get me? Rights are a government issue. Jerks are an issue everyone has to deal with."

"I get it," said Emmett. "I still can't believe you got bullied in school. I kind of thought there was a law against people being mean to famous people."

I shook my head. "Oh, no. That only drew more unwanted attention. I mean, halfway through high school I started getting filled out and not so awkward-looking, so guys started noticing. And I kind of became the face on all those patriotic 'Sweetheart of Amestris' posters, so girls decided to pretend they were my friend so they'd get noticed and stuff, but that was bullying in itself. They still talked behind my back."

Emmett looked confused. "Filled out?"

"Never mind," I said. "Um, anyway, that's all I was going to say. I wasn't minimizing racial prejudices of this era or whatever. Maes says I come off that way sometimes, but I really don't mean it like that. I've got opinions."

Emmett shook his head. "You didn't come off wrong. You understand this mess pretty good, King Nina."

"Well, thanks," I said. "You do too, cutie."

Emmett pulled his knees up against his chest and rested his chin lazily over his folded arms. He looked a little sleepy, I guessed. The train was traveling pretty smooth and the passengers in our car were sleeping, reading, or whispering. Maes was being weird and just thinking with his eyes half closed. Emmett sort of just barely leaned against me, subtle enough for him to disguise it as unintentional. I caught the drift and swung my arm all the way around him.

"You mind?" I said.

"Nope," he said. "You're comfy."

"You tired?"

He shrugged. Aha.

"Usually I'm helping Kelly put away snacks about now," he said.

"Cool!" I said. "Does she let you feast on the leftovers?"

Emmett pouted. "No, we get everything prepackaged so we can just save it for the next day. No leftovers."

"Aw, shoot. We've been on this train all day and so far we've been served one snack. Here I thought you guys were holding back all the good stuff for yourselves."

"I know! We usually only do nuts and tea." He hugged his knees. "Not used to serving soldiers in private cars. We gave it our best shot. Water was my idea."

"Very nice," I said.

"Thanks." He yawned. "Hey, King Nina? Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, go for it."

Emmett took a side-glance at Maes like he was checking if he was listening. Upon catching that Maes was still staring blankly into absolute space, Emmett looked back at me and spoke a tiny bit softer.

"General Elric was pretty relaxed when I met him," Emmett began.

"Yep," I said.

Emmett knit his brow. "But then he got all serious when Scar made him mad. Guess I was just wondering about what you guys are going to do in Drachma that's so top secret, you know? You don't have to tell me, but I'm curious if it's more like relaxed-General or serious-General material. If it's the serious kind, maybe you'd be better off just coming back to Central with me since you're pregnant and feeling like you're going to puke and stuff. Just saying."

I was about to answer when I heard Maes's uniform rustling as he sat up straighter in his seat. I looked up and met eyes with him. His features had softened. He smiled gently at Emmett with steady gold eyes.

"This mission isn't for relaxed or serious General," said Maes. "It's for whatever this General needs to be in any given moment. You don't have to worry, kiddo. One thing this General's never going to stop being is King Nina's husband. Nothing's going to happen to her. She's a lot sturdier than you realize." He gave me a wink. "Her temper alone makes up for her height by at least double."

Emmett blinked with wide eyes. "She's taller than you?"

"When she get's mad?" said Maes. "May as well be."

Emmett looked at me. "This I need to see!"

I looked at Maes and raised my eyebrows. "No, Emmett. I think you're good. You already got to see Maes get mad today. If I try to top that glorious event, this train might just explode."

"Okay," said Emmett. "Now I really want to see."

Maes chuckled and patted my head. "King Nina's right. You work her up enough and someone's going to end up with his or her face transmuted to the wall, now that I think of it."

"Transmuted?" said Emmett. "Like alchemy?"

I nodded.

"So, um," said Emmett. "Would you, by any chance, be a State Alchemist, King Nina?"

I nodded. "You bet your bronze buns."

Maes elbowed me. Emmett uncurled and broke into a grin.

"What's your specialty?" he said. "What kind of alchemy do you do? Faces and walls?"

Maes laughed. "Um, not quite. King Nina was certified as the Soul's Circuit Alchemist."

Emmett furrowed his brow. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," said Maes, "that she knows enough about life inside humans to control live energy like an extension of her own soul. She can channel energy through dead plants and make them grow again."

Emmett grabbed my arm. "You would make the best farmer ever."

I giggled. "Sounds like a fallback if I ever heard one."

Maes laughed in that way he often used on me, like Emmett had no idea how funny he was. It was sweet, seeing Maes so amused so soon after that clash with Scar.

Without really thinking about it, my eyes drifted over to where Scar was seated far down the aisle from us. I hadn't meant to meet his eyes, but when I did, I regretted it. I bit my lip. How long had he been staring at us? No, not us. Me. He was staring at me. His narrow ruby eyes flashed with something I couldn't place, something that looked like murder. I sucked in a short breath. Then another. I looked back at Maes and watched his smile as he spoke to Emmett again. I talked myself out of checking to see if Scar had looked away yet, but I was almost certain he hadn't. Something in his face had told me I'd made an enemy.

* * *

**Emmett's pretty much my freaking baby.**

REPLIES!

KTrevo: I'm so aware of it right now ;)

Madje Knottes: 'Awesome! Awesome! AWESOME! *sigh* Mom's are awesome...' -Ed's general reaction to pregnancy is the best thing ever.

SilverPedal1402: Sometimes Maes's views on what qualifies as 'amazing' really does go too far :P

RootlessGirl: I feel like Maes totally misunderstood the 'daddy club' being hypothetical and he just ran off to make t-shirts or something.

mixmax300: Haha, Maes is the epitome of a little boy! Good grief. Just want to take him out for ice cream cones with cherries.

Evvaria: Sometimes I wish this fic was a crack, because that would give me SO much freedom with the 'Roy finds out' scene ;u;

BloodyCookie: Hey! I remember you! Glad to have you back, girl :D

Harryswoman: Phil's like the fun uncle Nina never got to have. All the perks of a father with none of the responsibility (except for the fact that Phil currently doubles as Nina's bodyguard, of course...)

DanniMaeAnime92: I think the main difference between normal Nina and pregnant Nina is the latter cries more and is a lot hungrier.

* * *

**CHALLENGE: Guess what's happening in the next chapter. If anyone gets it right, I will legit write you your own one-shot about whatever the heck you want (within reason, man). Just try me.**


	13. Wrecked

**A/N: I seriously thought about dividing this chapter into a couple or more parts. It's freaking long and a lot happens. But it belongs together. It really does. So, enjoy :)**

* * *

Chapter 13: Wrecked

It was past eight in the evening when Maes bolted up from a two-hour sleep and said, "Where in the hell are we?"

Me and Phil paused in our conversation and Emmett picked his head up from my lap with a yawn.

Maes stood slowly. His stance was strong for someone who'd just come out of sleep. He looked straight ahead of him, stared at nothing with focused eyes. He spoke again, voice low like he'd kill the next person who smiled.

"Where," he said, "are we?"

The car was dimly lit from the pitch winter darkness outside. Shadows fell on those turning to their General like dark ghosts on the contours of their faces. Their eyes said what I was thinking: 'You okay, sir?'

"Hey," I said. I reached forward and tugged on his coat. "Sit down. You only slept a couple hours. We'll be there soon."

Maes either didn't hear me or just didn't listen, because he stepped from me and into the aisle. His eyes shifted back and forth as he panned his gaze over the people watching from their seats.

"I'll ask one more time," he said. "Where are we?"

One of Falman's underlings, the one that looked like a model, cleared his throat. "Major Mustang was correct, sir. We should be arriving in North City within the hour."

Maes's frown deepened, but behind I caught his skin fading deathly pale. There was something unsettling behind the anger. Maes acted before I could find out what it was. His hand plunged into his coat pocket and came out clad in one of his alchemy gloves. Without pausing to straighten the leather up his arm, Maes sidestepped from the aisle and pounded his fist against the frame of his window. The reaction was instant. Blue currents of alchemic energy shot from his fist and ran through the metal walls of the car like hungry lightning. Emmett clung to my arm as the blue reached the wires keeping the bulbs lining the ceiling lit. There was a brief buzz as the entire car went black.

Silence was sharp in the icy air. I felt Emmett's trembling hands pressing into my arm. Then the complaints came.

"Hey!" said a voice.

"What's going on?" Drachman accents were funny when angry.

"Sir?" Phil said.

I could hear Maes's breath. Quick. Sharp. Terrified. My eyes darted around the car, all the places windows were supposed to be and exits and just anything, but snow clouds covered the moon and stars. I sucked in a breath as I caught the soft glow of light coming from the cars behind us, the fuses Maes hadn't blown.

"Sir!"

"What is the meaning of this?"

"General Elric! Sir, say something!"

I wrapped my arms tight around Emmett and swallowed down the urge to vomit.

"Oh, God," I said. "There's no city lights."

Not anywhere. Maes had caught it when none of us had in the hours he'd been sleeping. We'd been distracted by the lights in the car, too distracted to realize there was no lit city within a hundred miles of us. Or more.

"Stay here," Maes said.

I heard the chains on his glove jingle as he donned the other one. His boots thudded with his steps as he walked back into the aisle. I could hear him going toward the engine in unhindered steps like he could see through the dark as good as if it was light.

"Sir?" said Falman's voice.

Maes repeated firmly. "Stay here."

A rush of air like ice filled the car as Maes opened the door to cross into the opposing car. For a moment, I caught a glimpse of orange light, the coals keeping the train going. Then the door slammed shut and the black swallowed my eyes again.

"Better than white," I said shakily.

"Nina," Phil said. I felt his fingers brush the top of my head. Once he'd made contact, his movements became more certain and I felt his weight plunk at my side. Bodyguard mode.

My arms shook around Emmett.

"Why'd he turn off the lights?" the little guy said like he could cry. "I want Kelly!"

Through the muttering quiet, I jumped at the sound of two distinct words flying through the air outside our protective walls. Maes's voice yelled desperate over the rumble of the tracks: "Get down!"

Phil got me down in a split moment, Emmett tight in my arms. Then the blast.

Like a shock to the system, all around us the air lit up with fiery light, a shock of warmth from the freezing air. I felt Emmett's hot breath against my shoulder, but I couldn't hear his screams through the explosions. It happened so fast I didn't think to scream myself. I couldn't even breathe. Smoke stung my unblinking eyes as I watched men and women in warm coats fling themselves to the floor of the jarring train. It took me a moment to recognize the gunfire above the screeching tracks. Blood was spraying from places I couldn't see from where I was. Phil was cradling my head in a protective hold. Glass from the windows scattered through the air as the vehicle bent on itself and finally flew from the tracks. It began to topple and I realized what would happen next. It would roll. It would roll and roll and those of us who weren't killed by flying debris or gunshot would die from the impact.

"Major Thomas!" I yelled. "Keep me covered!"

Like instinct, Phil's beefy arms tightened around me to painful quality. "Don't even think about it!"

Emmett cried out as I loosened my arms from him and forced a hand from Phil's grip. In a jolting, heart pounding moment, I slammed my palm against the shaking train floor. A blue current zapped from my hand. A spilt second later, great thick grapevines sprouted from my suitcase on the floor from us, growing ravenously from the shattered bottle of wine I'd tucked inside shirts. The vines grabbed at Phil's arms and did the job of pulling him back without me having to struggle one bit. I yanked away from Emmett and commanded the vines off Phil and into my hands. The vines still on the floor held me steady as I stood on the careening train.

"Keep me covered, Major!" I screamed over the gunfire.

"Nina!" Phil shouted. In spite of his protests, he whipped out his gun and fired at any angle that fired toward me. I started hearing screams from outside and realized Phil was probably killing people.

I acted fast. I had to. I swung my arm out and willed the Dragon's Pulse through that vine like my life depended on it, which it kind of did. The flames' light lingering from the explosion helped me angle it right and the vine plunged into the snow-covered ground. Once I'd locked it into the hard earth, I grew the other end of the vine into the train itself and sent enough life energy through it to grow a thousand more vines like it, reinforcing my tether fast enough to keep the train from careening like crazy but slow enough to keep us from slamming into the side from a sudden stop.

I saw the two occupied cars behind us spinning in a similar fashion and added them to my vines. Gunfire was coming from our car more and more as the thing stabilized enough for people to get their butts up and help. I heard Phil make a noise that said pain, but he didn't sit or stop firing his gun, so he wasn't dead.

I was getting dizzy. Super tiredly exhausted. I had to keep reminding myself to channel the energy through me and not just give up and start draining my own life force out of me. Wasn't used to having to remind myself of that. Hadn't ever really battled with alchemy. Just made plants grow for the military and explored life forces for fun.

"Damn, I'm out of ammo!" a soldier said.

"Me too!" said another.

Our Drachman ambassadors spoke worriedly to each other in accents too thick to understand.

"What's happening?" said someone. "How'd we slow down?"

"Who are these guys?"

As my limbs shook from the adrenaline and shock, I saw figures standing far in the distance giving themselves away by blasts of light from their guns. So many. So many people. So many not on our side.

I pulled my hand against my stomach. I couldn't. I couldn't fight. With my brand of alchemy on my side, if I employed the life force drain to these people attacking, I could win. But my body was weak from pregnancy troubles and old wounds that begged to be relapsed. I could've risked it two weeks ago with so many healers on the train to save my skin if I got hurt, but things were different now. If I got hurt, didn't matter if I got better. I could have a miscarriage, and there was no coming back from that. One gunshot was all it would take. I'd lose my kid. I kind of felt like I'd overdone it already as it was.

I sank to my knees and rested my head against the wall. Emmett crawled across the floor and sniveled in my arms. I stroked the back of his soft head and closed my eyes.

…

"Decide right now," said Eighteen. "You've seen worse. You've felt worse. You've stayed standing through worse."

Nine grabbed my hands. "And now, Twenty-one…"

Eleven and Twelve spoke into my ears, "Nothing on earth will ever meet worse than you."

…

"Nina? Can you hear me?" Maes's voice was breathless with panic. "Nina, open your eyes!"

My lids dragged open to darkness and firelight. Around me, flashlights shone like beams cutting the air. Flames crackled. Smoke hurt my lungs. And blood. I knew what blood smelled like. Moans and inaudible shouts were flooding the air. But no gunfire.

I looked up at Maes as he hugged me in his arms. His eyes were down on me, his gaze almost wild behind the forced composure.

"Are you hurt?" he said.

I sucked my lip and closed my eyes to check my soul's circuit. I looked up at him. "No."

His arms drew away from me immediately. "Stay put."

I laid my head back on the cold snow and closed my eyes. I sat up almost immediately afterward and rolled on my side to puke corn chips and water in a puddle beside me. Maes kept going. I lay back again and let my eyes stare numbly at the empty sky.

"I'm fine," Phil's gruff voice was saying somewhere. "It just grazed me."

"Where's Uncle Al?" Sophie was screaming. "I can't get this guy's wound to close. I'm not good at this!"

"You don't have to close it," said Grandma. "Just slow the bleeding as much as you can until help comes."

"How many fatalities?" said Falman to someone. "Do we have a count yet?"

"What are these? Vines?" said Captain Law.

"Just keep looking for supplies!" said Bale. "This thing could blow at any moment!"

"We got Knox out!" Uncle Ed yelled. "Someone heal him so he can treat the wounded!"

"Where's Braddock?" Frank called.

"He's here!" called Mikey. "You seen Fuery?"

"Armstrong got him out," said Braddock. "Wait, sir, your head's bleeding!"

"I'm fine," said Frank. "Get with the other alkahestrists and make yourself useful!"

"Mrs. Johnson?" green highlights girl was saying. "Where's Sergeant Johnson?"

"The General's got her, Wright," called Selim. "Stay put. You're hurt!"

"You are too!" said green highlights girl.

"I never stay down long," said Selim.

Somewhere a ways away, I heard a voice whispering, "Should we just tell them?"

Then I caught Emmett's loud sobbing. Stewardess Kelly was yelling for help. "Please! My sister's not breathing! Someone help her!"

I swallowed against the sting that vomiting had left in my throat. I propped myself up on my elbows before smoothly rising to my feet. Okay. I was done recovering.

I strode through the chaos with my feet pointed toward Emmett's crying and Kelly's pleas. I caught sight of them on their hands and knees with a male attendant performing CPR on the bloody body in front of them. I broke into a run.

"Wake up," Kelly cried. She took her sister's hand and brought it to her sooty cheek. "Please, Millie. Don't go!"

Emmett saw me through his fingers and looked up at me, sobbing as I dropped beside Kelly, just over Millie's broken skull. I touched the bloodied forehead gently and felt its lack of warmth. Millie's pale eyes stared emptily up to the black sky. I put my hand on the shoulder of the man trying to revive her and held him steady. He jumped in his skin like he hadn't realized I'd come.

"No," Kelly said. "No, keep going!"

I met her swollen eyes with seriousness. "I need him to stop so I can see if there's a chance."

Kelly's eyes widened. I pressed my hand over the broken portion of Millie's head and sent my life force's rhythm through her body in search of a circuit to join. Anything. Just a scrap. A trace of soul was all I'd need. A shred of a dry leaf could be pulsed into a fruit-bearing tree with my circuit alchemy. I just needed something to work with.

I closed my eyes slowly. I lifted my hand from Millie's head and looked up at Kelly. Kelly was still for a second, new tears pooling down her face. When I shook my head, she gasped and burst into hysterics. She pulled her sister's lifeless body into her arms and wept into the mess of bloody hair. Emmett snuggled against Kelly's side and held tight to Millie's hand. The male attendant stepped around me and rested his hands on their shoulders in silence. I stood and moved on to find other hopeless cases I probably wouldn't be able to save but had the decency to try saving anyway.

There was a body pretty near the overturned engine, burnt up almost past recognition. Smelled gross enough to make me gag. With some guilt, I was relieved the traces of clothes left on the body belonged to the engineer. It wasn't anyone I knew. I touched his charred face and felt for life I knew wasn't there. I stood and turned from the remains. I'd seen worse, but not by too much. I was thankful for the low light. I breathed through my mouth. This was the worst thing I'd smelled in a while.

I held a hand to my tummy as I walked. I could feel the underlying energy of the soul inside me. It was strong enough for me to sense it without even trying. Good. I could stand more exertion now that the adrenaline from panic didn't have a hand on me.

"You!" said a voice. I looked over to a few paces away to see Focker's nephew sitting in the snow with his hand pressed against a bloody eye socket. He was focused on me. "You're a State Alchemist!"

I hurried over to him. "Yeah, Warrant Officer. I sure am."

"Elric's research team, right?" he said.

I scooted close to him and tried to get a look at his face.

"Have to heal me!" he said. "Can't see!"

I put my hand over his where blood trickled from his face between his fingers. "Can I look?"

"Heal me!" he said. "Got to! Can't see! I can't see out of it!"

"Calm down and let me look," I said. "Come on."

His hand trembled as he allowed me to pull it away from his eye. I squinted to see through the dimness. I swallowed. Yeah, no wonder he couldn't see. There wasn't any eye left to see through. He did appear to have some glass planted in the wound, though. Couldn't have him pressing his hand there in a panic. He might shove that glass deep enough to kill him by accident. I grabbed a handful of snow and balled it in my hand.

"Okay, Blake Focker," I said. "Deep breaths. You're going to be just fine. Here, hold still. Let's put some ice on it, okay?"

He cringed and cried out like a child, but he let me place the snow against his bleeding hollowed eye. I had him hold a folded hanky gently against the snow to dull his instinct to grind his palm into the wound. He was way taller than me, but I had him on his feet with his arm around my shoulders limping to where the assorted medics were scattered.

Maes was standing from old Sergeant Major Johnson with a deadpan gaze. He looked to Knox Junior who was in the process of tying off sutures a couple inches above Frank's ear.

"Doctor," Maes said. "Leave him. I've got Johnson stable. Make sure she stays that way."

Knox Junior broke off the end of the knot he'd been working on and stood. "Yes, sir. I was just about to move on."

Against my hopes, Blake Focker caught the vibe of doctors and healers in range and started crying for help like he had with me.

"Can't see!" he said. "Eye's bleeding! It got my eye! Someone heal me!"

Maes whipped his head to face me with a gaze like knives. "Nina! What the hell are you doing up? You can't—!"

"Focus on the wounded, sir!" I said. "Let the fit handle themselves."

I turned from him and helped Focker over to Frank. Frank looked up at me with dazed eyes as I came over. Focker was still shouting for help as I sat him down next to Frank. Knox Junior met my eyes with concern and I shook my head in a silent, 'No, he's not critical.'

"Major Mustang," said Frank. "The vines. You saved us."

"You hit your head, Frank?" I said. "Huh? You got yourself a concussion?"

"Not too bad," he said. "Just have to stay awake."

I patted Focker's back soothingly. "How about a 'staying awake' buddy?" I smiled. "How's that sound, Officer Focker? Lt. Colonel Charlie's going to stay with you while you wait for the doctor."

Blake shivered. "I need the doctor. I can't see."

Frank blinked sluggishly and I could tell he was trying to seem as coherent as ever. I reached and touched his shoulder. I spoke softly under Focker's cries.

"He's got debris lodged in his right eye socket." I glanced at Focker then back to Frank. "Keep him from panicking too bad until the doc can see him. I don't want him accidentally pushing the shards deeper."

Frank's breath sharpened. He nodded his head. "You can count on me, Major."

I patted one more time between Focker's shoulder blades. "Okay, you got yourself a buddy, Blake. Just stay with Frankie. He's going to take care of you."

Focker clung weakly to my arm with his brown, blood-smudged hand as I tried to stand. "Don't go," he said. "I don't want you to go."

I patted his hand before pulling it off and stepping away. "I'll be back to check on you in a little while. Just sit tight, okay?"

I heard Frank's voice speaking calming words to Focker as I left. Knox Junior met my eyes as I left like he was seeing me for the first time. I wondered for a moment just how he'd seen me when we'd worked in the same hall at HQ. Not like this. I kept walking.

I found Uncle Al kneeling beside the girl with green highlights, blue light flashing around her thigh as he tried to close up a deep gash. There were a couple large shards of metal debris laying out in a bloody mess beside her and, by the tears coating her scraped face, I assumed the shards had recently been pulled from the gash in her leg. It was surprising that she still managed to remain propped upright. I was nothing less than impressed.

"Nina?" said Uncle Al.

"You're busy," I said. "I'll find someone else."

The blue light flickered as the wound under his hands closed. Uncle Al stood from green-highlights girl. "_Everyone's_ busy. What do you need? Are you hurt?"

"Realign my back," I said. I stepped over green-highlights girl to get to him. "I think I pulled something when I was steadying the train and it's beginning to throb."

Uncle Al didn't waist time. He clapped his hands together and pressed them on either side of my body where Bob's sword had entered and exited. Blue currents circled his hands and zapped through my spine. I tried to hide a cringe. Alkahestry was the worst. It specialized in regeneration of broken tissue. Healing old wounds or illnesses was not its purpose and never felt good when attempted. Maes was a less painful experience, but I was sure he was busier than busy, wherever he was.

"Those vines saved us," said Uncle Al as the blue light shone.

"Any idea who attacked us?" I said.

The transmutation completed and he drew his hands away. "Kind of hoping you could tell me."

I shook my head. "Thanks for the patch job."

I started on my way, but Uncle Al caught my arm. "Wait, Nina, Sophie said you're pregnant."

I paused. "State your point."

"You…" Uncle Al's face twisted with apprehension. "You shouldn't…Well, you…"

"Okay." I nodded. "That's what I thought. Thanks for the patch job."

"Nina!"

"Don't get distracted," I said.

I pulled away and hurried off to find another untended body. Uncle Al yelled after me, begging me to be careful. A small part of me wondered who else Sophie had told and if she'd done it during or after the crash because she was worried for me. I caught sight of her crying as Grandma pulled her across the snow to another injured soldier that needed healing.

I could hear Sophie's sobbed protests, "No! No, I can't do it! I'm not good at this! Let Maes do it! Please, I don't want to!"

Grandma was unwavering. I could see the sadness in her eyes as she did it, but she tough-loved Sophie into healing the next set of injuries with her without a hint of mercy.

I heard violent coughing a ways away and saw Uncle Ed kneeling next to George with his hand on his back. I looked at George's flushed face, the way his mouth was panting and his shoulders were heaving through breaths. Uncle Ed rubbed George's back in circles with pained worry clear on his face. I could hear Uncle Ed's soft words as I approached.

"My son used to have this problem all the time," said Uncle Ed gently. "The trick is not to panic. You're not going to stop breathing, Sergeant. We're just going to sit here until your lungs calm down, okay?"

"Smoke inhalation?" I said.

Uncle Ed and George looked up at me like I'd snuck up. George let out a series of nervous coughs and the soot on his face said it all. I nodded.

"Okay, Georgie," I said. "Where's your inhalers? You got the rescue one on hand?"

Uncle Ed knit his brow. George fought to catch his breath.

"Not," he said, "in my pocket."

"You lose it on the train?" I said. George nodded. I smiled and looked at Uncle Ed. "George Fuery's a chronic asthmatic. Of course the smoke would get to him worse. Can you stay with him?"

Uncle Ed nodded, patting George's back with a gentle hand. "We're okay here. I know how to keep kids breathing."

"Then hold on until I get back." I gave George a last smile and started off in the direction of the second car of the crashed train.

That was Uncle Ed for you. Even though he struggled with alkehestry and lacked the training of a medical pro, he still managed to find places he could heal. George was currently reaping the benefits of Uncle Ed's years of daddy training.

I got to the outside of the second car panting cold air. I let myself sink to my knees and double over. Okay, now I was the one having trouble catching my breath. Not too bad. Just, the look on George's scared little face had made me want to hurry. I swallowed. I stood.

"Speak up!" Maes's voice said. "Tell me everything!"

I looked over to a shadowy area beside an overturned car with not much fire to light it up. I recognized Maes's tall silhouette looming over a few other figures. I recognized Mr. Falman standing beside Maes. The other figures belonged to our Drachman escorts, but only two of the four stood. One was on her knees with another lying limp in her arms. I took a couple steps into better earshot.

"We didn't do this," said the woman kneeling. "We didn't do this."

"Yeah, I figured that out," Maes said. "Tell me who did."

No one spoke.

"Where are we?" said Maes.

Silence.

"Who was the man driving the train?"

"We don't know," said the Drachman man.

"We don't know," said the woman standing beside him.

"We didn't do this," said the kneeling woman.

I watched Maes's posture tighten like a wildcat readying to attack.

"Alright," he said overly calm. "I asked nicely. Let's try this. I don't know where we are. I don't know why we were attacked. I don't know who I just defended my men from. I don't know if there are others out there looking to finish the job. All I know right now is that I've got three people in front of me who do know. That could be for two very obvious reasons. You three were either involved or you're the reasons we were attacked. Either way, the most logical solution would be to kill you where you stand."

I heard gasps and mutters from the Drachmans.

"Unfortunately," he said, "I'm a General in the Amestrian Military and an execution of diplomats from the Drachman Embassy without a trial could be considered an act of war. In that case, I'd be forced to leave you behind alive. I'd take your clothes and any provisions you have on you, of course. I prioritize my men over traitors who refuse to open their mouths past, 'We didn't do this.' Don't worry. You'll freeze to death before whoever's out there can get their hands on you. Well, I'd hope so. You might expect torture if this mystery enemy finds you alive. I may not know much about them, but the guns they were using definitely weren't legally obtained. I don't take these men to be men of much honor."

"Stop!" said the man. "Your words upset the women!"

Maes strode forward and grabbed the man by the collar. "You think I give half a damn who's _upset_ right now? Wake up! We got bodies everywhere! My uniform's soaked with blood that's not mine. I just killed people. I want to know who they were, dammit!"

I covered my mouth to muffle a gasp. No. He was bluffing. Maes didn't kill. Maes didn't…

"Where are we?" Maes shouted into the guy's face. "Amestris? Drachma?"

"I don't know!" said the man. He spoke again before Maes could shout in his face. "I don't know where we are! We were told this wouldn't happen!"

Falman turned his face like his attention had been grabbed by the horns.

Maes eased up on the guy's collar. "Keep talking."

"It's not our faults," said the guy. "It was our orders from the Capital. They didn't want your Fuhrer to turn his back on us."

"What reason would my Furher have for turning his back on your country?" Maes said. "Speak!"

"You'd be at risk!" said the guy in a sputter. "Prime Minister Chekov knew your Fuhrer wouldn't want to involve his military if he knew of Drachma's recent struggles…"

"What struggles?" said Maes.

The diplomat guy was shaking. "Terrorists have been targeting…"

"Terrorists attack to make an example!" said Maes, shaking the guy by the collar. "These guys got us as far out as possible before attacking. They just tried for a massacre no one would know about! We're on uncharted tracks, god dammit! Try again! This time, tell it to me straight!"

"They are terrorists!" said the guy. "I swear! They've been striking border villages across the map for months and scaring locals into abandoning their homes and moving inward."

"You idiot," said Maes. "That's not terrorism. You're talking about an invasion!" I heard Maes laughing bitter. "I see. So, I take it these guys aren't involved in our investigation in the slightest? I'd wondered why Drachma had their hands tied solving the kidnappings. Turns out they got their military too focused on defending the borders to worry about citizens. That about right?"

No one spoke. The Drachman guy was frozen still.

Maes spoke again, less bitterly amused and more just bitter. "So, your government decided to keep our investigation on the down low in hopes that these invaders wouldn't pay attention. I understand now. You thought this would go smoothly as long as we didn't find out about them and they didn't find out about us." Maes sighed. "Looks like your plan backfired."

"We meant no harm," said the diplomat guy. "You have to understand…"

Maes shook his head. "Look what you did. You damn fools. I'll bet your little invaders caught your government contacting mine and the first thing in their heads was mobilization. They were nipping the reinforcement in the bud. I'll bet they thought every car on this train was brimming with soldiers coming to Drachma's militaristic aid, huh? It would seem so with all the explosives they used to take us off the tracks." Maes was quiet for a moment and I could tell he was trying very hard to stay calm. "Okay. Someone tell me who's been picking on Drachma. Just say the country. I don't need details. Is it Aerugo?"

I saw the diplomats exchanging looks. The woman standing spoke up.

"We don't know where they came from," she said. "Aerugo is possible, but there's no telling. They come and they go and it's not like they wear uniforms signifying their nation. Tonight was the first defeat I know of on their part. They might not be from anywhere. We have plenty of enemies, General. We could've come to you for help if it had been simpler. They come from every angle but the Briggs Mountains. They know not to cross General Armstrong's path."

"Are you lying?" said Maes.

"No," said the woman.

"Is there anything else?" said Maes.

"They're not alchemists," said the woman. "Not that we know of."

Maes sighed. "That's the first bit of good news out of your damn mouths."

"We meant no harm," said the guy.

"We didn't know," said the woman standing.

I caught Maes's body tensing in a sudden change. He reached out like a flash to grab the guy's collar again. "Bastard! Good intentions aren't going to bring back the dead!"

Did he mean the ones who'd died on his watch, or was he referring to the ones he'd killed himself?

"We didn't think you would come if you knew!" said the kneeling woman. "We need the kidnappings to end and we can't do it alone!"

Maes let go of the man's collar with enough force to make the poor guy stagger back. "Of course we would've come!" Maes yelled. "These are helpless children we've been called to rescue! You think we give half a damn whose country they belong to? No, we would've come! We just might've brought some extra weapons with us, maybe some soldiers who actually knew how to use them! Damn it! I've got an eighty-year-old woman under my command! A little kid just came off that train! An amputee with automail that's probably freezing up as we speak! My youngest soldiers are barely out of high school and one of my State Alchemists is in the first month of a high-risk pregnancy. We're in the middle of nowhere! We don't even know what country we're in right now! Your government didn't want to risk Amestris denying you aid? Look around! More likely than not, your aid isn't going to make it to the investigation whether we last the night or not."

I backed away. I'd heard enough. The rest would be Maes regurgitating his anger and fear in their faces making sure he had them crying before Falman would finally step in with business to talk over. I wanted to calm Maes down myself, but I knew deep inside that Maes needed to be angry. I'd done this kind of thing before, the ugly traumatic junk, watching deaths. I'd even killed people in states of desperation or insanity, but he definitely hadn't. This was stuff he had to get out of his system before our troop regrouped. I didn't want him blowing up with pent-up feelings right in front of them when morale already seemed to be in pieces.

Plus, I had an inhaler to recover.

The second car was overturned in a bad way, the only way inside being to climb up the underside to the entrance that was now angled to the sky. This would prove a challenge for me, all four-foot-eleven of me. Five feet! I meant five feet of me! Dammit, Maes…Such a freaking bummer sometimes.

I stared up at the car with my arms folded, trying to figure out how I was supposed to scale the thing without throwing out my back again. I wanted to hurry. George hadn't been breathing to the point of danger, and he'd had Uncle Ed with him, but he'd seemed awfully uncomfortable with his tight breaths. I'd lagged too much already.

"Damn it!" I whispered to myself. "What now?"

"Soul Alchemist," Scar said gruffly. "What are you doing?"

I whipped my head around to look over my shoulder. I shivered at the hulking sight of him. His trouser leg had been burned right into his left thigh down to his ankle and he had a bad bruise right on top of the scar on his forehead.

I swallowed. "That's not my title. I'm the Soul's_ Circuit_ Alchemist. Big difference. You look really bad. Go find an alkahestrist."

"Shouldn't you be with them?" he said with a glare.

I shook my head.

"You're not a healer?" he said. "You transmute souls, don't you?"

"My healings are too powerful," I said. "Trust me. You guys are better off without me doing them."

"I don't understand," he said.

"You don't have to understand," I said. "You can do alchemy too, right? Why don't you go heal?"

"I have no experience," he said.

"Then quit bugging me about it!" I said. "Jeez. Would you stop hovering? I'm trying to think."

He looked at the train where I'd been directing my attention. "What are you trying to do?"

I swung my arms out at my sides at a loss. "I need to get in that car to find Sergeant Fuery's rescue inhaler, but I have no idea how I'm supposed to do that. I mean, you think you could give me a boost or something? I'd transmute the wood flooring into roots and climb up that way, but the thing's on fire in places and I don't want to give it more to burn, am I right?"

"You can do that?" he said.

"No," I said. "I just said I couldn't. If I grow a tree, it'll catch fire and then it'll be too dangerous for me to go inside at all."

"No, I meant…" He sighed. "Never mind it. What do you need me to do?"

After a little discussion, Scar decided it was easier to just swing me over his shoulder while he used his left arm to make the ground jut out under us like an alchemic elevator. A man of few words, he didn't give me too much warning he'd be doing that, but I was small and more or less used to being manhandled, so I was mostly fine with it. He jumped into the car with me still on his shoulder. We each coughed on smoke as he set me on my feet.

"Oh, damn," I said. "Don't do that again. You squeezed my stomach so tight I nearly puked all over your back."

He looked around with squinting eyes. "What are we looking for?"

"Don't worry about it," I said. "Just stay put and let me do the searching."

"Don't be foolish, girl," he said. "We need to be quick. I don't trust this structure to hold forever."

"Yeah, you're not the trusting type," I said, coming to my knees and crawling through the scattered rubble. "Don't worry about it, Scar. I saw you squinting at Maes earlier. I know you don't see too well from too close or too far away. You catch movement, though. That right? Just watch for anything caving and let me know so I don't get hit."

Scar was silent for a moment. "You knew just by looking at me?"

"What?" I said. "That you're in desperate need of bifocals? Sure. Happens when you get old."

He grunted discontentedly. I continued searching, going through strewn odds and ends, hankies, books with ruined pages, a squished military issued cap, a burst pen; that kind of thing. Scar coughed.

"On second thought," I said. "Maybe you should get down. Smoke rises. You'll breathe better from ground level."

"I'm fine," he said hoarsely.

"You're full of crap," I said.

I heard him hissing in pain as he came to his knees. Those burns had been bad. I was a little worried he wasn't taking them seriously enough, that maybe his body had gone into shock and he wasn't clear headed enough to know how bad he was hurt. Then again, this was the Scar I'd heard about. He did have a knack for being a creepy stoic monster.

I came across George's daily inhaler. That meant the rescue one had to be nearby. I shoved the daily on in my pocket and continued looking.

"Hey, Scar?" I said. "Did you bump your head?"

There was a pause. "What of it?"

I reached under a splintered board and pulled out George's rescue inhaler plus a family photo of the Braddock's in a broken frame. I yanked the photo out of the frame and shoved it and the rescue inhaler in my pocket to join the daily inhaler. I cleared my throat from the smoke. I crawled over to Scar. I stayed kneeling in front of him. He blinked at me all squinty like he was trying to see me clearly. I smiled and touched his forehead where he'd bruised.

"You hit your head right here?" I said.

He flinched away. "What of it, girl?"

I put my other hand on his cheek to steady his face and laid my palm flat on the bruise. "Is it true you killed a little girl about thirty years ago because she was an alchemic screw up?"

He was quiet. He closed his eyes. "Are you going to kill me?"

I couldn't help but kind of laugh at that. "No, Scar." I lifted my hand from his forehead. "I'm going to watch my back."

He squinted up at me as I stood. "What did you just do to me?"

"Nothing." I put my hand out to him and smiled. "Trust me. You would've felt it if I'd done something. I just checked your life force, that's all. I wanted to make sure you didn't have a brain bleed. Don't worry. It all checks out. You'll be okay."

He stared at my hand. He looked away and stood on his own. I rolled my eyes. Men. Like last time, he swung me over his shoulder without much warning and I had to try not to puke on him. Once we were out and back on the ground, I brushed myself off and tugged his arm to get him to look me in the eye. I got his attention, but he kept his eye contact to himself.

"Hey, you need to get help for that leg," I said. "Leave it much longer and you could lose it. The air's going to freeze it to the bone with an open wound like that."

He frowned. "I'm perfectly capable of…"

"Um, I have places to be, so, can we save the macho stuff for later?"

He frowned deeper. "You said you checked my life force. Explain…"

"Let's save that, too." I turned from him. As I left, I called over my shoulder. "Hey, Scar, guess why my mom named me _Nina_!"

I didn't wait for an answer. Just headed on toward Fuery. It was kind of fun tweaking Scar, I quickly realized. He was so ready to assume the worst that all it took was some mild implying to get him uncomfortable. Perfect form of revenge for the idiot who'd picked on my husband and murdered messed up kids and volunteer doctors.

Georgie gave me the sweetest breathless gratitude ever when I passed him both his inhalers. I looked around as Uncle Ed helped George administer them. The setting had calmed down somewhat. All the people those screams and moans were coming from had someone not screaming or moaning tending them. Looked like I'd be checking on Emmett and Kelly and Blake Focker sooner than I'd counted on. Well, how soon was _sooner_? How long had it been? I pulled out my watch.

"How you doing, kiddo?" said Uncle Ed.

It took me a moment to realize he was referring to me. I put the watch away. "It's been over an hour since we crashed."

Uncle Ed nodded. "How you doing? I've seen you running around helping people."

I understood what he was asking. I gave him a smile. "Oh, my dear sweet Uncle Ed. I've seen so much worse."

He chuckled kind of melancholy. "You and me both."

George looked up at me through his cracked glasses. "You've seen worse, Major?"

I raised my eyebrows. "I got adopted out of a bad situation, remember? Don't look so surprised."

George kept looking surprised. "Worse than this?"

"Um," I said, "yep."

George looked really bothered. "How?" He took a wheezing breath and looked down as his knees. "This is what you meant. When you said I was a baby." He coughed. "And the worst thing would be if I figured that out."

He was shaking from the cold. I rubbed his arm and said, "Yeah, pretty much, but I wouldn't get too upset. I've seen babies smile through a lot worse. You're doing just peachy, sweetheart."

He nodded, sniffling. I kept rubbing his arm. He was probably the smallest person on the team aside from me and Emmett. Barely five-foot-three and skinny as heck. Even with the layers, being idle like this had George shaking like a leaf.

"Keep your arm around him," I told Uncle Ed. "I don't want him going hypothermic."

Uncle Ed nodded and swung his arm around George's shoulders.

"Hey," I said. "Mind if I ask something?"

Uncle Ed waited.

"Did either of you kill people tonight?" I said. "Just curious."

Uncle Ed reacted without a thought. "Of course not! I would never—!"

"I just pointed and shot," said George shakily. "I don't really know. How about you, Major?"

"Me?" I said. "No, I was too busy keeping the train steady." I stood. "I'm going to go check on some of the other wounded guys, okay?"

"Your father would be proud of you, Nina," said Uncle Ed.

I snorted. "No, my father would be freaking out. I'll catch you later. Stay cool." I paused in my steps. "Oh, yeah, and Uncle Ed? Try to go easy on the ones who had to kill. It's because of them you didn't have to."

I was on my way to check on Blake Focker like I'd promised when I caught Sophie shouting at Mikey. Quite the spectacle. Braddock was standing nearby like he was ready to break them up if violence ensued.

"What, so now you're some jewelry expert?" Sophie shouted.

Mikey flinched at every word. "Just, Sergeant Armstrong said…y-you should take them out. Lieutenant Karley f-from Briggs just told her…"

"You have any idea how many piercings I have?" Sophie said. "How the hell you expect me to get them off?"

Now that I thought about it, my studs were feeling a little numb in my earlobes. I pulled them off one by one and dropped them in the snow. No point in keeping up with them.

"I…" said Mikey, "I don't know. You've got to get them off or you'll get frostbite."

"Fine!" shouted Sophie. "Turn around!"

Mikey blinked. "Huh?"

"Turn around!" said Sophie. "You too, Braddock. Look away. If I catch you peeking, I'll kill you!"

"Pardon?" said Braddock.

Sophie stomped her boot in the snow. "Not all of them are on my face, dammit!"

She was unbuttoning her coat. It was time to step in. I hurried over and grabbed her hand as she pulled at her uniform. Mikey was red in the face and Braddock had already started to turn around. Sophie looked at me and hyperventilated, her wet blue eyes bloodshot from crying with smudged mascara down her pale cheeks.

"Hey, Sophie," I said. "I'm not sure the rule applies as much to piercings _under_ your clothes. Let's focus on your face for now. Sound good?"

Sophie sniffed. She sniffed again and leaned her head into my shoulder to cry. I hugged my arms around her quaking body and spoke softly to her.

"Come on, Soph," I said. "Come on. Let's get you to your dad. You want to go see your dad?"

"I want my mom," she sobbed.

"I know." I stroked her hair. "I know, but we need to be strong, right? We need to stay strong for all the ones who got hurt. George had a really bad asthma attack a minute ago. Did you know that? Your daddy's looking after him. You think you can help him out?"

"George is in trouble?" said Mikey. First time I'd heard him call George by his first name in a really long while.

"I can't do alkehestry," Sophie cried. "I can't. I'm not good like Maes. Grandma said I could stop."

"George doesn't need to be healed," I said. "He just needs some looking after. You can do that, right? He was having trouble breathing earlier. You know how to help with that."

Sophie sniveled and nodded. "I don't want to go alone. I don't know where they are. It's so dark. I can barely see."

"Mikey," I said. "How good can you see?"

"Um, fine," he said. "I guess."

"Can you take Sophie over to her dad?" I pointed in Uncle Ed's general direction. "You're worried about George too, right?"

Mikey nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Is…is he okay?"

"He's cold," I said with a smile. "But Uncle Fullmetal's got him. No worries."

Mikey put his hand out to Sophie and I urged her to take it. Miracles of miracles, Sophie took it without arguing. The situation seemed to have her in a daze, the only perk to that being compliance.

"Mikey," I said. "Make sure her dad gets her to take the facial piercings out."

Mikey nodded and guided her in the direction I'd pointed them. Braddock stared at me, clearer-eyed than the other two had been for sure. Clearer-eyed than most of the people I'd encountered since waking up.

"You good?" I said.

"Bumps and bruises," he said. "You?"

"Pregnant," I said.

To my amusement, he feigned surprise for me. "Well, gasp, Major Mustang. I had no idea. What wonderful news this is."

"Shut up," I said. "Pansy. Where's Olga at? I haven't seen her."

"General Elric fixed her arm," said Braddock. "Now they got her doing heavy lifting and carrying the injured. That kind of thing. I think there might still be folks who didn't get out."

"She's looking for survivors?" I said. I frowned. "Poor baby."

"You seem to be handling it just fine," said Braddock. "Pardon if this is rude, but keeping calm isn't something I've seen you pull off too often, ma'am."

"I've seen worse," I said. "I'm going to check on Warrant Officer Mother Focker. Care to join?"

"With the injured?" he said. "Uh, I ain't too sure about that, ma'am. See, I keep getting people getting on my case to heal them since I've practiced some kind of alkehestry before, but you've got to understand. I never did none of that medicinal stuff. Just played alchemy like a game as a kid, you know? I never…"

"I'll teach you," I said. "Come on. I left Frank with Focker and I know the both of them have plenty of scrapes for us to practice on. I may not have the type of alchemy for smooth healings, but I know plenty about how other people do it."

"You," said Braddock, "you serious?"

"I serious," I said.

Braddock paused. "The Lieutenant Colonel…he's okay, right? I saw his head bleeding earlier. Didn't know if he got help."

I grabbed Braddock's elbow and pulled him along. "Why don't we go see for ourselves? Jeez. You idiots keep standing around like this and your feet are going to freeze to the ground."

The night continued like that for about another hour, soldiers becoming less and less certain of themselves the more the dust settled, the more the shock wore off. Phil found me while I was instructing Braddock through healing a small gash in Frank's forearm. After I'd survived a serious bodyguard hug, I got Braddock to move on to closing up the triaged gash a bullet had grazed into Phil's arm. Braddock was a natural, just like I'd known he'd be. The guy had been doing alkehestry since he was a kid, whether he'd known that was it or not. This stuff came natural. If it hadn't, there was no way I'd have offered to 'teach' him.

I held Blake Focker's hand while the old fart Dr. Knox helped his son tweeze the glass out. Focker passed out partway into it. Good for him. Uncle Al stopped the bleeding when they were done and Knox Senior hooked Grandma Izumi's O-negative vein to an IV leading into Focker's arm. She'd been in and out of the hospital enough as a young woman to be one of the few to know her own blood type.

We were working with supplies so limited it was terrifying. The team in charge of salvaging had recovered two rudimentary first-aid kits from the train, and that was it. We had a couple IVs with needles we soon found ourselves recycling, some bandages that ran out too fast, disinfectant that apparently stung to hell in the freezing temperatures, surgical and suturing junk that shook in Dr. Knox's arthritic hands, that kind of crap. By the end of it, we were binding triaged wounds with ripped shirts from suitcases and soldiers were keeping their severely injured comrades warm with their own body heat.

The day's leftover sun-warmth left the air abruptly and the temperature plummeted deathly cold. The time was around nine at night when I finally just dropped next to Phil and shivered in his arms. I could hear Emmett whimpering. That boy hadn't stopped crying in two hours, as far as I knew.

Maes's voice rose above everyone. "Listen up."

I looked up. He was standing a ways from me, a ways from everyone so he'd be in the general line of vision. He had that serious, deadpan gaze as he scanned what was left of his team. He had our attention.

"I've consulted with our Drachman escorts," he said, "as well as our team from Briggs. It seems that the man driving our train tonight was involved in an unidentified foreign military force set on invading Drachma's borders. This force mistook our mission as military aid to defend those borders and actions were taken to stop us. It is now apparent that the driver took the train down a different route than was planned. Sometime during the final hours of our journey, the driver took us off the charted tracks entirely. It is unknown how long we were on the uncharted rail, but it was long enough to take us out of range of civilization of any kind. Needless to say, no one is coming for us."

I heard some weeping, but there was nothing but silence besides that.

"The point in bombing the train," said Maes, "and ambushing us afterward was an effort to make sure we'd be eliminated in full. Of course, if this new enemy of ours had known who they were up against, they might've sent more than twenty men to meet us."

I sucked my lip. Twenty? How many of those had died by my husband's hand?

Maes continued. "Now that the ambush has failed, I see it as likely that whoever sent those men to attack us will become suspicious when not a one of them returns. It's been two hours since the attack. Our fatalities currently run at four: Drachman Representative, Dmitri Babkin; train attendant, Millie Mitchell; engine mechanic, Fredrick Price; and Second Lieutenant Melanie Davidson."

I sucked in a breath. Melanie? She was from Knox's team, right? She'd been, like, Howard Bale's only friend.

"There are thirty-two of us left," said Maes. "You follow my orders to the letter, and thirty-two of us will make it home. From this point, everyone stays alive. The temperatures are dropping and sitting around waiting to freeze is not an option. We'll diverge from the tracks and get as far from the direction we came as possible. If we try backtracking or following any sort of given route, we'll only be targeted again and this time they'll know to send more men."

Dear God. He was serious.

"Those who can walk on their own," said Maes, "assist those who can't. We'll walk in a rough four-by-eight formation with me at the head and State Alchemists Fullmetal, Soul's Circuit, and Bowman protecting our points of exposure."

Bowman? That was Braddock. Maes was picking people he knew had clear heads. He wanted us to be on the lookout for him. I looked out at everyone, blood rendering the snow shockingly red around shivering bodies. This was hopeless. Maes wasn't speaking to soldiers. He was speaking to thirty-one people who'd already given up.

No, I thought. Just thirty.

"On your feet!" said Maes. "We'll keep going until the sun's up if we have to, but we will leave this place with our lives. Twenty-four men and women didn't lose their lives today so we could die with them. On your feet! That's an order!"

I stood and saluted. "Yes, sir!"

There was a stillness that swept over the expanse at my words. I guessed it stood out to me more because Maes became still himself. He stared at me from where he stood, wide-eyed and panting breaths. Most people around would probably have said he looked collected and in control, but I knew my Maes. He looked freaking lost.

I swiped the snow off my butt as Phil stood beside me. Phil saluted him. "Sir."

Braddock stood. "Yes, sir."

Uncle Ed stood where he was with George. "Yes, sir."

My heart leapt in my chest as Major Howard Bale stood next. He saluted Maes with squared shoulders. His voice came out hoarse from being on the salvaging team who'd had to go through all that smoke for so long, but he spoke strong.

"General Elric," her said. "Your orders for Team Knox, sir?"

I sucked my lip. That was right. Maes had made Bale their team leader. Maes swallowed hard. It was like he'd just realized he had friends. I gave Howard a small smile I knew he probably wouldn't see but maybe he'd feel it a little.

"Manage the wounded," said Maes. His eyes drifted to Selim, who'd come to his feet. "Bradley, account for supplies. I leave the rest to team leaders who have any team left to lead. And Falman?"

Mr. Falman saluted. "Sir."

Maes's eyes hardened. "I put you in charge of making sure our Drachman comrades don't get lost."

Falman nodded without the slightest hesitation. "Yes, sir."

* * *

**Okay, who saw that coming, my lovelies? I got some pretty close guesses, actually. I was a little surprised. Some guesses about a possible Nina-Scar encounter. Some about adopting all the Emmett's. One even mentioned a train wreck. But no train _attacks_. Bwahaha!**

**Nina: "Author, you are one slippery tool."**

**Anyway, REPLIES!**

SilverPedals1402: I can just see poor Phil following Nina around the battlefield with Pepto and corn chips. His duty as her sidekick.

AllIKnowIsImNotAwesome: Emmett will get page time. Oh, yes.

mixmax300: I love how Nina 'handles' Scar.

RootlessGirl: That field-day idea had me cackling. Omg, yes!

Cap'nHoozits: Haha, tension and Scar are never a favorable combo.

Evarria: Oh, dang, Scar scared the fool out of me for most of the anime. So grumpy and zilch compassion for people beyond, like, a meaningful scowl?

KTrevo: Ten Emmett's. Got it. Please step to the side, ma'am. We'll have your order out in a moment.

Harryswoman: I'll bet Al carries bottles of chill-pills with him at all times (a patient disposition can only get you so far). He could share. With everyone.

justaislinn: If Scar tries to hurt Nina, Nina will hurt him back worse and then every Elric within range will do him in again for good measure. That would be glorious!

**Fun Fact: The word count of this fic currently stands at almost double the minimum word count of the average YA novel (and already exceeds the maximum recommended). On average, my stories exceed the maximum word count set by most publishing companies but two or three times. Stephanie Meyers's 'Twilight' is renowned for being an exception to these limits, but the truth of the matter is, the first book should've gone straight to the slush pile without a glance. It broke word count rules and that's all you need for the work to be rejected. But the staff member to come across 'Twilight' first was a new girl at the company and it was her first day. She didn't know to slush the manuscript and it miraculously made it past the first door and eventually into bookshops and movie theaters everywhere. Thus, Meyers was the 'exception.' BTW, this kind of fluke pretty much never happens. Disgruntling, right? Having to train myself to write shorter books with less twists.**


	14. Hiding

**A/N: Have some heavy Cornstang, ya'll. It's on the house :D**

* * *

Chapter 14: Hiding

Phil offered to carry me right off the bat, which, frankly, was rather embarrassing given the fact that I'd been specifically assigned to guarding our formation. Really, Phil? Really?

"How many times do I need to say it?" I whispered as we trudged through the snow. "I'm fine."

"Just making sure," he said.

I grumbled to myself. "Triple dog sure."

It had gotten cold. Really cold. Nose-nipping, beyond toe-aching cold. Didn't take me long to realize that Maes's brisk pace wasn't just for the sake of a speedy retreat. He was keeping our blood going. He was doing what he could to keep us warm. Of course, he didn't say that. He just lead and ignored complaints and dirty looks from the idiots who'd assumed he was just being a hard-ass for the sake of asserting authority.

Maes had banned the use of flashlights. He said moonlight was enough for us to see by, which was kind of not all the way true with clouds covering the moon every few minutes and turning things pitch dark for a while at a time. He said the flashlights would give us away, but that wasn't all he was doing by keeping us in low visibility. He was keeping us from getting too good of looks at each other. Blood on uniforms, sooty skin, limps in walks, injuries too awful to heal with alkehestry alone, pale faces, wide eyes; we looked bad. Maes had given orders against making noise crying and talking, too. He was keeping his men from feeding off each other's panic and he was masking it as us laying low. This was the kind of junk that had gotten my hubby promoted so many times. This stuff he did in his head that people wouldn't understand unless he let them. Or, you know, unless they knew him like I did.

I heard Second Lieutenant Collette Lovett, the only female left on Knox's team with Melanie gone, whispering somewhere to my right, probably to some other unhappy customer. Her tone was harsh compared to usual. Back at HQ, she and Melanie had kind of been the blondes on too much caffeine who half-worked, half-flirted with Stewart and Law.

"Damn him," Collette said. "The jerk. We sit around for two hours regrouping and then he has the nerve to say we can't waste two minutes burying the dead. He's sick."

Oh, right. There was that. We hadn't been allowed to bury our dead. Instead, Maes had put a small team in charge of 'seeing to them.' Pretty much Falman and his two Briggs guys stacked the bodies under debris and cremated them as we were leaving. Maes did it under the duress of time constraints. Really, he could've easily used alchemy to get under the thick snow and give them places in the ground. I hadn't figured out why Maes hadn't done that. He hadn't even said a few words eulogy-style. Just listed the fatalities like a waiter reading back meal orders. Maes hadn't been too familiar with the other three fatalities, but Melanie had been working in the room over from us for years. The best I could figure with his coldness toward her death was he was protecting himself from thinking about it too hard.

I winced through a gust of chilled wind. Damn, that stung. My back was getting sore from walking. The pressure in the air made my damaged joints ache. This was why alkehestry sucked. It met you about halfway then left you to heal nice and natural but with your body's first-response regeneration and immune defenses completely appeased. That meant that, in being healed artificially, your own body's natural healing response went craptastic. Whoopty-freaking-doo.

"Nina…" Phil started softly.

"Said I'm fine, dammit!" I hissed. "Little pain never killed anybody!"

Okay, that was so not true.

"I," said Phil, "wasn't going to say that. Wait, are you in pain? Where?"

"What were you going to say?"

Phil paused, veering back on track. "I was going to ask if you could do without me for a while. I think I heard muttering from the back. Sounds like we have a man falling behind, and if you don't need me to carry you, I think it wise that I lend my strength to…"

"Yeah, go. Now. Dismissed, guard-guy."

"But, if you're in pain…"

I rolled my eyes. "Who isn't a little sore right now?"

"Right."

A voice a little ahead of us spoke in a harsh whisper. "Keep your voices down. You heard the General's orders. They'll find us!"

Okay, so, turned out some of the people in this group actually bought into and appreciated Maes's orders after all.

I lowered my tone. "Go, Phil."

I felt his hand on my arm in a brief, reassuring gesture. "I'll be in earshot."

I listened to his big boots backtrack heavy in the snow. His footsteps were like none other. So freaking clunky and substantial and junk, like nothing could ever hope to uproot the guy. Once you had a Phil, fear came slower and softer.

I fumbled for my watch in my pocket. Stupid thing. I was wishing real hard I could tell time by touch. The sky was too dark to read the face of the clock, not even barely at all. It had to have been at least an hour we'd been walking, but I'd heard my professor spouting off one time in art academy that a human's perception of time was worse than a bunny rabbit's. Scientifically proven. On average. So, did that mean we had suckish perceptions of time, or did bunnies have super-clock-powers? That being said, how was this 'average human' determined? Maybe there was some kind of curve due to humans with, like, no time-sense fudging everything up for the rest of us. Maybe I was one of them. I mean, those weeks in Xing where I'd gotten all obsessive over Mom's drawn calendar and Dad's pocket watch had kind of been a disoriented doozy, but I'd been nutsy crazy back then. I deserved a little slack as far as time-sense went. These days, I didn't even need to look at my watch to sense when it was time to get off work and go home. Probably because all I needed to do was look out the window and see the sun setting. During the winter, the sun disappeared right around the time we got off, almost to the mark, so I was technically cheating, but still!

Okay, had it been an hour or had it been three? Because human or rabbit, I'd had a full day and I totally acknowledged that I could be pretty dang disoriented about just about anything right now and not have realized just how bad I was yet.

Apparently I hadn't been the only one thinking of time. I heard Falman's soft voice from up front. "General Elric, we've been going for almost two hours. The men are getting tired."

Maes answered smoothly. "One hour, thirty-seven minutes, and forty-eight seconds. Hardly rounds to two hours, Brigadier General."

Aw, jeez. He'd been keeping track in his head again. Should've known. Freaking rabbit.

"Sir," Falman tried again. "The temperatures are dropping."

"Minus thirty-one degrees," said Maes. "That's in Celsius."

Did he have thermometer, or was his skin some kind of heat sensor now? Because that was kind of a dorky talent that not many people would understand, and if I could hear, so could others. Maes, quit spouting off! You sound like a dork and no one's going to know this is normal for you!

"How long before we can expect to stop and make camp?" said Falman.

"Stop expecting," said Maes.

"Sir?"

"We're not stopping."

Falman was quiet. "Sir, I'm not sure I understand. Your men are dead on their feet. You expect them to go on like this?"

"Stop expecting," said Maes. "Just do it."

I heard some muttering ripple through the sloppy rows of dark figures as traces of Maes's words spread. My shoulders tensed and I sucked hard on my cracked lips. The edge in Maes's voice along with his vague, discouraging words were well enough to alert me something was off that he wasn't saying. I kept walking, a little more deliberate, like walking with confidence might just rub off on those with refreshed doubts. Maes Effect was depleting fast. Even kind dear gentle nerdy a little wimpy Falman had taken on doubts in his tone. Had to remember, until a couple weeks back, he'd been Maes's superior. He'd been handling the change in tide surprisingly well, now that I thought about it. Taking orders from a twenty-one year old kid.

Somewhere I heard Sophie mutter a tear-strained, "Don't touch me."

And Grandma said, "It's just me, sweetheart."

"I know who it is," Sophie said in a whisper that was kind of loud because she was angry. "I'm not some kind of case. Leave me alone!"

Sophie had been snappy with people since we'd started walking. Any accidental contact or otherwise got her snarling. Understandable. She was the girl who _caused_ trouble. She didn't like getting into it. Control was this gal's friend.

Control, I realized, was something I'd never really had from the beginning and kind of had learned not to depend on to be happy. Good for me. I smiled to myself, remembering my cute little friends being all like, 'You've been through worse, so now you're worse than anything the world can throw at you. No worries, girl!' Oh, yeah, I was so totally disoriented right now. I could barely prioritize my thoughts, much less think them. But, hey, at least I wasn't going crazy this time. Couldn't say the same for all of us.

My smile dropped.

Couldn't say the same for all of us. Damn it. If I were to try to puzzle out who of us was over the edge so far, I wouldn't know where to begin. Blake Focker hadn't been much of a picnic with his eye earlier. Sophie definitely wasn't keeping it together. Emmett and Kelly had been a little hysteric, but they'd been grieving. Too much sadness mixed in to measure bare traumatization. Selim had been okay at a glance, seeming like he'd undergone minimal damage and seen minimal damage go down as well. Uncle Ed had seemed okay. Shaken up, but he'd meant it as much as I had when we'd bantered about having seen worse. Uncle Al had kept his cool likewise in his own way. As had Scar. Dang, Scar and Falman both seemed unshakeable, like they were just doing their thing. Veterans. That was the word for them. They'd seen blood before. Well, that fact hadn't helped Grandma Izumi too terribly much. She didn't seem too shaken by the wreck or the blood, but her love for her grandbabies seemed to play to her disadvantage. I'd practically felt the concern and guilt radiating off of her when she'd been forcing Sophie to continue healing people, glancing frequently around like she was probably looking to make sure Maes was okay. My old research team seemed more or less like her on the whole in that respect. Effected on an emotional level, but not the kind of PTSD crap that would limit their ability to function. Besides Frank's concussion and George's asthma, I didn't have much to worry about with them.

Maes, on the other hand.

I knew when something was wrong with him. Without even looking him in the eye, I could hear it in his breaths. I would've known he wasn't okay in a heartbeat, but I didn't need any tips. Because he'd killed people, and that was just enough said. I was still trying to figure out what I was going to do about that. This was one thing Nina-wisdom wouldn't help with. If I were honest with myself, Nina-wisdom on taking lives would probably just get him angry with Nina and her wisdom. Then he'd start crying or something.

I ran my hand up and down my spine. Frack. I could feel that warm, underlying presence of my baby's soul same as always, but something nagged me that my loose observation wouldn't tell me if I was overdoing it until it was cutting too close. Had I made a bit of a mistake loaning Phil out to someone else? Because, things hurt, and, for all I knew, it still hadn't been two hours yet.

I shuddered in my skin at the throaty sound of George's asthma cough. He wheezed deeply, but the effort was lost in another fit of coughs. He'd been doing that every once in a while, coughing and losing his breath. He'd warned once that his asthma was activity induced, so he wasn't cleared for any active duty missions or whatever. Kind of like me. Poor boo.

He coughed again, the sound just completely wretched. He was gagging on the coughs, they were coming so hard. He was getting worse, wasn't he? I heard Phil mutter as much, "I think he's getting worse."

I kind of disobeyed orders a bit, but whatever. I abandoned my post at the left edge of our formation and hung back to join Braddock where he'd been assigned to guard the back. Not too surprisingly, pretty much all the guys from our team had clumped together at the back with Braddock. Comfort in familiarity. Mikey was guiding a dazed-looking Frank by the arm, Olga at his other side with heavy-looking salvaged crates easily hoisted on her broad shoulders. Braddock spoke low words of concern to Phil. I winced at the dim silhouette of George's small body huddled in Phil's strong arms. Phil was carrying him wedding-style with his big arms like a nest, obviously trying to keep George warm by some means or another. George's dark form shook violently. I could hear his teeth chattering in stifled, gritting sounds between harsh coughs. It didn't take a genius to figure out the cold was irritating his bronchial tubes into tightening.

"Where's his rescue inhaler?" I said.

The others flinched at my voice.

"Kid won't take anymore," said Braddock softly. "Says he'll overdose himself."

So, he'd maxed out. Crap.

"Georgie?" I said, coming nearer. "Hey, baby. You awake?"

He let out a hoarse, mumbling sound that I interpreted as an affirmative.

"How long have you been carrying him, Phil?" I said.

"I'm not sure," Phil said like an apology.

I shook my head even though they didn't stand much chance of seeing. "Make sure he stays awake. Okay, George? You stay awake, now. I'll be right back."

George muttered something garbled through the shivers that sounded like, "Don't worry. I'm fine." Something about him saying that, maybe just the weak, gentle way he said it, made my eyes prick in the icy air. I reached over Phil's arm and patted George's shivering hand. His tight breaths wheezed in his chest. I made myself draw away. Too much like Maes.

"Major Mustang," Mikey said after me, tone strained with apprehension.

"I'll be back," I said.

Mikey was quiet for a moment. "Right."

I walked along the outer edge to keep from shoving. Man, I hated snow. Man, I hated it. Made my steps falter. Made my gate uneven. Made stuff hurt. Made me slow and clumsy. Ugh, this was awful. The worst. Worst terrain to get stuck with, like, ever. Besides maybe…yeah, no. I couldn't think of anything worse off the top of my head.

I walked around the front, finding Maes at the lead by a few steady paces. Well, gosh, no wonder he was working us like this. His strides were worth at least a couple and a half of mine. Dumb tall people and their stupid paces.

"Major Mustang," he said in a drone, shadowy face pointed forward. "You saw fit to leave your post?"

"I know you've got your reasons for marching on," I said, "but if we keep going like this, we're going to lose Fuery, Sir."

Maes's steps faltered slightly. "Fuery?"

"His shortness of breath won't allow him to walk," I said. "But the lack of activity is slowing his circulation. He's too small. He's proving unable to maintain a safe level of body heat and the further cold is having adverse effects on his airways." I paused. I lowered my tone so it was barely coming out. "I touched his hand. Checked his life force. He's bad, Maes. I think I sensed frostbite and hypothermia's already on its course. No matter what we're running from, if you meant what you said about no one else dying, you need to think of some way to stop and tend to your men. Do it fast."

For a while, Maes was quiet, and I felt a heaviness gather around us. The wind whipped against our bare face and I kneaded my back with my fist. Maes let out a dull, frustrated laugh and sighed. "Who'd have thought it?" he said. "I figured one of you would be coming up here telling me one of the critically injured was crashing, but Fuery? He was good on his feet."

I knew what that meant. It meant Maes had surveyed his little broken troop in one swoop before we'd even started walking. He'd analyzed us in seconds and made mental lists of who he had to worry about and who he could depend on. From Maes's words and tone, it sounded like George had either been part of the latter or on neutral ground. Maes was now dealing with something he didn't tend to like. A miscalculation. His steps slowed.

"It's a shame," he said, "that I can't touch souls like you can. Would save me a lot of guess work."

I felt my heart sinking that way it always did when Maes made little mentions of his lacking in my ability. He could master just about anything in alchemy. Just not mine.

"Major," said Maes. "Inform Sergeant Fuery that we will be stopping shortly." Maes's clinical way of asking me to tell George to hold on just a while longer.

"Yes, Sir," I said.

I hadn't even gotten all the way to George before Maes's firm and very much not whispering voice came over us like distant thunder.

"Attention! Everyone come to a halt," said Maes. People stopped in their tracks all too quickly, many going so far as to buckle over on the ground. Maes continued smoothly. "I will be performing a clearance of the area before we make camp." I could hear the distinct jingling of his leather alchemy gloves and I wondered that he'd taken them off in the first place. "Keep still. Keep quiet. No one act until the transmutation is complete. Understood?"

The crowds weary mumble of, 'yes sir,' was pathetic.

Suddenly the space around us was lit up with neon blue light. Maes got a few shocked cries for that one. I got a glimpse of his deadpan pale expression as the light of his transmutation pulsed over and reflected off the perfect snow. Currents of crackly blue ran like veins around us, spinning rapidly like a spider's web, suddenly too far away to see where it ended. Maes's tarnished eyes darted back and forth as his transmutation analyzed the ground miles in every direction the same way he'd analyze the materials in a piece of automail when he fixed up a customer in Rush Valley. I watched his gloved hands hover at the surface of the snow and I winced at the red stains over the leather. So, that was it. He'd taken them off because he'd been wearing someone's blood on them. Everything was suddenly dark again. Maes's voice invaded the black.

"I have confirmed this area to be safe by a radius of five miles," he said. "Stay in the center and do not venture off without my knowledge. You will be informed in an hour as to our next course of action."

There was another flash of blue, this time more heavily concentrated to a space of about twenty square feet. A ways from us, just a ways in front of where Maes now crouched, a one-level rectangular structure rose out of the ground, something like a building or a house or, like, a fort. No windows. Flat, boxy roof. It was reminiscent of some kind of ethnic hut made out of earth and straw and all that, just a lot less artistic and tons more practical. Aw, baby, it was gorgeous!

Maes's gloves flashed and a door appeared at the side. When that was over, he flicked out a flashlight, turning it on to shine through the darkness, grounding us for the first time in consistent visibility.

"Doctors and healers," Maes said. "I trust you to look out for those in need of attention. Everyone else, warm up and get rest. If you've got a problem, physical or otherwise, now's the time to approach someone about it. We can't afford to put off issues we'll only have to face later."

People were still for a moment, like they weren't sure what had just happened was real. Eyes were wide on Maes's fort. Dang. For some reason, it just looked warm.

Collette Lovett stood tall. "I have an issue to approach you about, General Elric."

Oh, hell.

Maes blinked. His eyes rested on her for about half a second before his features evened out with understanding. "Speak, Lieutenant."

Collette folded her arms, trembling from cold or anger or whatever. "You were only promoted a couple weeks ago to bypass red tape, right? They didn't make you a general because our higher-ups honestly believe you're qualified to lead a team through a battlefield."

Maes didn't flinch. Just waited. Stared, taking her words as rhetorical. The air was tight with the audience's uncomfortable silence.

"I request an appeal," said Collette. Her voice shook like her shivering body. "I don't think you're fit to lead this team and I know I'm not the only one. Step down and let someone who knows what they're doing take over."

"Oh," said Maes. "Really? That's all?"

Collette went rigid.

I swallowed. I knew that detached tone. She'd done it now. She'd pissed him off.

Maes's features darkened. "Get out of my sight."

Collette stepped forward, fists tight at her sides. "I requested an appeal!"

"Then take it inside," said Maes. "Appeals of the nature you're implying don't go to the one you're appealing, Lieutenant. They go to the next highest-ranking officer by default. If you want Falman to steal the reigns, talk to Falman."

Yeah, but Collette wasn't looking for an appeal. She was looking for blood. I patted Phil's arm and nodded for him to start making his way toward the fort with George. Maes was walking off to the side, making it pretty clear we were free to enter like he'd already kind of stated.

"You're brushing me off!" said Collette. I caught the glint of angry tears in her eyes. "You're ignoring me! You can't be bothered. You couldn't even be bothered to bury the dead!"

Something flashed across Maes face. Something like rage, actually. I sucked my lip. His expression smoothed, but I caught the quiver in his gloved hands. His jaw flexed like he was deciding whether to speak.

Bale beat him to it. "Dear God, Lovett! We've got friends dying over here and you're bitching to the General about a bad funeral service? Shut up and get your ass inside. He already told you twice. Once should've been enough."

The way Bale said it, it was like he was saying Maes shouldn't have had to tell her in the first place. I just wanted to hug that sweet jerk and give him bites of my Noodle Shack take-out all generous and thankful. My stomach churned. I put my hand under my ribs and grimaced kind of nauseous at the thought of food. At least I wasn't puking.

There was light inside the fort now. Looked like people were doing the flashlights and filing in and setting up. I heard Sophie's distinct voice ranting about Collette mouthing off at big brother and Uncle Al's steady words weren't doing much to calm her down. Injured people groaned. Not completely injured people groaned. Collette sobbed as Bale and Captain Stewart guided her inside like some joint effort. I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked to see Braddock still standing next to me.

"Hey, Braddock," I said, a smile touching my mouth. "Get inside and thaw your buns, huh?"

A snort of laughter escaped him. "Um, sure thing. Ain't you coming?"

"Well, Maes isn't," I said.

Braddock blinked. "Pardon?"

I folded my arms, kept my voice down. "There's a reason we kept walking until George's condition stopped us in our tracks. By all rights, we should still be walking right now." I paused. "Maes said we were all clear for a five mile radius, but I know for a fact the range of that transmutation was seven miles. We're being pursued by someone or something, something worth running from. I guarantee Maes'll be keeping watch tonight. I'm staying with him."

Braddock looked thrown off. "But…pursued? Why didn't he say?"

"He warned us it was a possibility," I said. "A likely possibility. The nearness of the danger would only cause for panic, and that would slow us down worse than us being none the wiser. Trust me, Braddock. Maes has his reasons for things and he has his reasons for keeping them to himself. He had his reasons for skimping on Melanie's burial." I gave Braddock a serious look. "You're a level-headed guy. You've got your wits intact. That's the only reason I'm telling you this. You keep it to yourself, got it? If Maes wanted everyone to know, he would've said it himself."

Braddock shook his head. "Of course. Appreciate you saying something. I mean, I trust the General's calls, but it's reassuring to know what's behind it. You figure this stuff out, or does he tell you?"

I shrugged. "I know my husband."

Braddock smiled a little amused. "As it should be."

"Go inside and thaw," I said.

"I think you got it wrong, Major," said Braddock. "Inside ain't any warmer than outside. Just got walls."

"To keep the wind out."

"Oh. You're right."

"Remember that circle we made up?" I said. "Get yourself a shred of paper or a pencil shaving or just whatever and transmute something we can burn. I think a small fire in there would be good. Just make sure you get a hole in the roof for the smoke to escape and run it by someone besides me before you do it. I don't want to get you in trouble."

Braddock chuckled. "Getting people in trouble's part of your charm, last I heard."

Couldn't argue with that. I patted his arm a couple times. "I'm serious, though. You should go inside. Phil's a great fluffy guy, but George knows you. Uncle Ed's going to be busy keeping Sophie's head on straight." I felt my breath shake as I breathed it. I slipped my hand in my pocket and pulled out the family photo I'd grabbed on the broken-down train with Scar. I handed it to Braddock. "You're on daddy duty tonight. I sensed frostbite when I touched his life force earlier, Braddock. Georgie's going to want a hand to hold. Get someone to grab me if he wants mine, okay?"

Braddock took the picture with a suddenly grave countenance. "How bad?"

"Don't know," I said. "I touched his hand through cloth for a couple seconds. Enough to know we needed to stop."

"Should you go in?" said Braddock. "Tell someone?"

"They'll see it without my help," I said. "They'll know what to look for. Just go. I've got me a General to deal with."

"Yeah," said Braddock. "Good luck."

I smiled a little. "I won't need it."

Braddock laughed. "Sounds about right."

What with our conversing, Braddock was one of the last to make it inside. Maes was standing to the side of the open door with Mr. Falman speaking to him just above a whisper. I overheard enough of it to get the gist. Falman was saying he wasn't interested in appealing Maes's authority on the mission in some apologetic monologue. The way he was going on, I was assuming that in the time everyone had been going in, Maes had been informing Falman on a few of the motives behind his actions.

I came up and joined them as Falman was saying, "I apologize if I indicated any differently, General."

Maes's eyes shifted to me for a moment then looked back at Falman like a whip. "Make sure to keep an eye on our Drachman escort. Your team's mission to oversee them hasn't changed with our circumstances, we clear?"

Falman paused, getting his bearings. "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed," Maes said dully, like a bored teenager.

Falman saluted and walked past me with a tentative glance. I smiled and waved my fingers at him. He went on through the door looking confused by my gesture. Before Falman could shut the door behind him, though, Emmett popped out. It surprised me a little. Seemed to surprise Maes too, by the slight set in his jaw. The light was dim, but I could see the tearstains on Emmett's face clearly. His eyes were rubbed raw to the point of swelling. For a moment, he just stood there, right outside the door, staring at me and sniffling. I gave him a soft smile and put my arms out in front of me. He walked into them almost immediately, his flushed face crumpling and the waterworks ensuing all over again. My heart broke for him.

I kissed the top of his head, smelled the smoke still clinging to his hair. "Hey, baby. What's shaking?"

"You all right?" he mumbled into my hunched shoulder.

"Right as rain," I said. "How about you? You feeling okay? No broken bones?"

Emmett shook his head. "No broken bones."

"How's Kelly?" I said.

"Going to go be with her again in a sec," he said. "Just wanted to check on you really quick and stuff."

"Thank you," I said. "I appreciate that. You're a trooper, Emmett."

"What's that?"

"Trooper?" I said. "Someone who doesn't give up, I guess."

"Oh," he said. "Thanks. You too."

I kissed his hair again and released him. "Okay, sweet cheeks. You go in where it's warm and be with your Kelly."

Emmett sniffled, rubbing fresh tears with the back of his sleeve. "You're not coming?"

I shook my head.

"Why not?" he said.

"Spending time with my hubby," I said.

"Why isn't _he_ coming?" said Emmett.

"Because," I said, "we need privacy and junk."

Emmett still looked confused, but he was satisfied enough with the answer not to worry about it and he left with a kind of embarrassed little farewell wave Maes's way. Maes forced a smile. I closed the door behind Emmett. Mr. and Mrs. Elric were alone.

I looked at Maes. I sucked my lip. He looked away. Just stood there. After a while, he cleared his throat kind of awkward and put his hand out to me.

"Sit on the roof?" he said.

I nodded, taking his hand tight. "Better lookout position, yes?"

Maes sighed like he'd realized I knew some of the stuff he hadn't said out loud. "Yes. Yes, it is, Major."

He swung me up in his arms like I was his princess and walked us up a transmuted ladder at the side of the fort that I hadn't seen as he was making it. We sat on the corner of the flat roof, right in the way of the wind. I huddled up against Maes's side nice and snuggled. His arm came around my shoulders, but his movements weren't desperate. He sat strong, unaffected by each freezing gust of wind. He wasn't feeling the cold. Well, shoot.

"I told Braddock to make a fire," I said.

"Oh," said Maes. "Good."

"It won't alert the enemy or anything, will it?"

"Shouldn't be a problem," said Maes. "Long as they keep it small. Too dark for anyone to see smoke. Just, if the smell spreads, you know?"

I nodded. "Sure."

"What Lovett said a minute ago," he said. "I…I don't think I should step down."

"I don't think so either," I agreed. "People are just scared and junk. They don't know all your motives, what you're protecting them from and all. If they did, they wouldn't be complaining about it."

I felt him nod. "Think I need to just be more open about it?"

"Better to have them pissed than panicked again," I said.

Maes didn't laugh. Just nodded again and said, "Right. Figured as much. Just wanted your take. Glad I'm on the right path, then."

"Mm." I took a breath. "Maes…"

I felt his hold shift. He hugged me a little tighter. Then his hand was on my stomach and his cheek was leaning heavily against my forehead. I got the drift and placed my gloved hands over his. I shivered and kissed his chest.

"I killed people, Nina," he said, finally.

The air felt so empty around us. Floating in black. I leaned into his arms. I pressed his hand flat to my stomach and wished he could feel the life there like I could. I heard him let out a shuddering breath. He inhaled in a sniff that sounded dangerously reminiscent of close-to-tears Maes. I reached up and petted his cheek tenderly.

"I know," I said.

And that was all it took. I felt a tremble run through him, the tremble that had run through him the day he'd been told his dad was going to die. His face pressed into my hair and his shoulders quaked with his signature silent tears. Quiet, nearly non-existent. Just occasional sobbed breaths to match his gentle sobbing movements.

I pulled my arms around him and reached to stroke the back of his head. My eyes ached and warmed with tears. This was the worst. The absolute worst. This was Maes's worst nightmare come true. By the classic Elric family mindset, Maes was now a murderer. His hand never left its spot on my stomach. I held it there.

"You were protecting this," I said, squeezing his hand where it rested on my stomach. "You had no choice."

He nodded into my hair, but just quaked harder.

"I still love you," I said next, because I had this awful feeling he needed to hear it.

Maes cried audibly for a heartbreaking moment. He calmed himself down and went back to the silent quakes, but he was clinging to me tighter now.

"I can't," he muttered.

"I know."

"I can't," he said, "do it again."

"Then don't," I said. "Other people on this mission have it in them to kill, Maes. You're the one who needs to keep it together. If you don't think you can…"

"No," he said, drawing away from me enough to rub his eyes. He ended up just crying into his hand. "I mean…I don't think I can do it with just my hands again."

A chilled feeling beyond the outside cold swept over me and it made my breath thin. The next question came without much thought. "How many, baby?"

Maes shook his head. "Guy driving the train was an accident. Probably would've kept him alive for questioning if I'd seen it coming, but he had a gun at me. I wasn't looking where I was throwing him. And then…then doing it on purpose wasn't as hard after that."

My mind flashed to the burnt up body of the engineer lying limp beside the tipped engine. He'd fallen into some kind of fire. I'd realized that at the time with some detached horror. But now it was different, because Maes had thrown the guy into said fire.

"That man driving the train burned to death," I said cautiously.

"He broke his neck on the tracks!" Maes said in a sudden burst. "I didn't stick around to see what the explosion did to his remains."

I could've slapped myself. I rubbed Maes's arm a little over the top and said. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. I mean…I…"

Maes was suddenly rigid. "You saw him?"

"I…oh, yeah. Yeah, I was looking for survivors. He definitely wasn't one."

Maes tightened his arms around me. "You saw that?"

A smile found its way to my face. "I'm fine, sweetie cakes. I've seen a lot worse."

Maes's voice cracked with disbelief. "You have?"

"Yeah. You know that."

"I…" Maes breathed. "I'll take your word for it."

Dang, he knew that right? I mean, I'd told him some of the shit I'd seen. Burnt up dead guy doesn't put a dent on burnt up live toddler. I shivered and Maes rubbed my arm like he thought I'd shaken because I was cold. I couldn't help but smile at that. My sweet pea.

"Maes, I'm going to be okay," I said. "Long as I don't start associating this crap with the old crap, I'm living by been-there-done-that. No matter how bad it gets, I'm keeping my head this time."

"That makes one of us, I guess," Maes said. His tone was supposed to be playful, I knew. But it just wasn't. "Nina, I…" He stopped. His breath shook. I listened to the sniffles return. Finally, his broken words spilled out. "Nina, will you clean off my gloves? I can't do it."

I stuck out my hand for him to give them over. I'd kind of started figuring as much. In silence, Maes placed the jingling leather wonders into my ready grip. He leaned away from me some as I set to scrubbing them with my sleeve. He'd get the stains out later. Right now, he was asking me to clean off smudges of gore. Oh, God. Was that human skin between those chains? My stomach turned.

"So," I said coolly. "How many?"

Maes's breath trembled. "Besides the driver? Four. I took down four. Others were in range of our men. Got shot down. Four, though. I could see four in covered positions."

"I saw those guys too," I said. "I was going to go after them myself, but I got dizzy and I was worried about overdoing it and miscarrying and all that awful stuff, so I sat down and fainted."

"You?" said Maes. "Go after them? You?" He seemed a little peeved I'd even suggest it. "What would you have done?"

I didn't falter. "What you did but with souls or vines."

Maes's hand gripped my arm so hard and sudden that it hurt enough for me to gasp. "Like hell you would've!"

I shook him off, not really wanting to tell him it hurt in that moment. Seemed insensitive.

"You can't just…" Maes talked like he was going to glitch. "You can't…"

"Maes," I said calmly. "Take a breath. You asked what I would've done and I told you. What's getting worked up going to do? Seriously, what else did you expect me to say?"

"I don't know," he said. "Stunted their life forces or something!"

"That would've lasted twenty minutes tops and as if I'd have that kind of access to even stunt them with them firing bullets at me in the first place. No, Maes. I would've killed them. We talked about this. There was no other option. What, did you plan on taking prisoners? Leaving them tied up to freeze or to survive and rat on us to their superiors?"

"I don't want you killing anyone, Nina," he said very firm. "You got me? Not you."

I felt the beginnings of a frown pinch my brow. "What, so little George Fuery and Olga can do it for me? You understand that, right? You start telling people they don't have to kill, you just end up putting it on other people to kill for them. Don't you do this. Don't you do that thing where you ease everyone's burdens one by one until they're all on you, because you fail, Maes. You just can't. You're one guy."

"Why don't you let me worry about everyone else," he said, kind of proving my point. "You…you're you. You're my wife. And you've got your past. And you're pregnant, and…I just don't want you going around murdering people, okay? That's…that's an order."

I blinked. "Wait, are you worried about me, or are you worried about your idea of me?"

"What?"

"Um, baby?" I said. "In case you forgot, I've already killed a few people in my lifetime. Not exactly something I say with pride, but hey. I'm not exactly tearing myself apart over it. You know as well as I do that I think of mortality pretty different from most folks. I'm not going to crack if I have to kill to defend people depending on me. I know the difference between killing and murdering so well it's sick, and I don't plan on doing the latter. So, that said, if you have a problem with your little wife 'murdering,' then that means you're focusing on the principle of the matter instead of the reality."

"I don't want you killing anyone." His voice was watery, pleading. "I don't. It's awful. I don't want you to do it."

I brushed his gloves off and handed them back to him. "Maes?"

He took the gloves with a shaky grasp and I watched him slowly pull them on, like he'd be ready for anything. I got up on my knees and pulled my arms around his neck. He clung to my waist and we shivered. So damn cold. I kissed his face then stopped, wondering if maybe my lips would freeze to his skin if I kissed too long or too wet. Maes angled his mouth to mine and kissed me real gentle and sad. I kissed back, but then he started kissing hungry and I realized what was going down. I pulled my mouth away and shifted to hug him better with my face guarded by the crook of his neck. I rubbed his back.

"Please?" he muttered pitifully.

"Sorry."

He nuzzled my hair and breathed in shuddery breaths, obviously near tears again. But kissing didn't make things better and he knew full well. That had been one of our marital issues, Mom had lovingly pointed out five minutes after the wedding. She'd pointed it out to a degree while we were still dating, even. Maes and I had our problems, and when they got to be too much for us on our own and, finally, for us as a team, we channeled the struggle into some unhealthy coping thing.

Sometimes it was buying something we didn't really need, like a second frying pan or take-out when we already had leftovers in the fridge. Sometimes we did a bunch of fun things and went on date nights all the time, not because we loved it and stuff, but to distract ourselves from what came to mind when we sat too still. Sometimes we got in fights on purpose and argued about everything except what was really bothering us.

And then, the ever-common battle, sometimes we smothered issues out with physical contact. I mean, it was natural to hug and hold hands and junk for comfort, but making out and heading to the bedroom anytime things got rough was a dangerous game. Sure, it felt good in the moment, but the winter of last year, Maes had started having really bad suffocation nightmares around the anniversary of his former automail installation and we'd made the mistake of going from talking about it until he was ready to go back to sleep to just stuffing the fears and making love every time he bolted up. Even after the nightmares stopped, Maes had admitted it took him months before he could really see me as me again and not his object of distraction. The guilt and self-loathing in his eyes had been frightening.

So, making out because he was rattled from killing people was kind of a really big not happening. Even if he was saying _please_.

"I overheard you talking to the Drachman people-guys," I said. "Maes, if people are after us, you've got to grow a thicker skin about this. I'm not trying to be harsh or unfair. It is what it is. This isn't about you. In all honesty, I'd say the wisest course of action isn't to set your mind on who you're comfortable with becoming killers. Try to recognize who in our midst right now you can rely on not to crack up the moment they take lives. You, you've pretty much implied you can kill again as long as you're not doing it with your bare hands."

"Preference," Maes said. "I'll do what I have to."

He was being tough. I smiled a bit. "Since you're our leader, I'd suggest getting way comfortable with that idea, then. I know you've gotten some of that combat training junk required with military folks that actually qualify for active duty, and then you do sparring and stuff with your dad and the others, but maybe adding some kind of weapon to the mix might be a good idea. Can you do a gun?"

"Um, sure," said Maes a little stiff. "I…well, they're a little limiting."

Okay, so apparently he already had something in mind. "What are you thinking?"

"Dad was a genius as transmuting any kind of blade," said Maes.

"You…want to do a spear or something?" And he'd said guns were limited? Just what did he plan on doing with this weapon of his?

"Remember our good friend Bob?" said Maes with a bitter edge. Oh, yeah. Maes had lost that fight, hadn't he? "That sword he used, the way he moved with it…I could do a lot of damage and I wouldn't have to get too close or messy."

I remembered with a tinge of old anxiety. Maes had thrown everything he'd had into that fight back in Xing, transmuting the earth into some kind of jutting work of art, and Bob had made it without a scratch, his only mark in the fight being quite a few gashes into Maes's flesh via special Bob-sword.

"He nearly had you," I said. Nearly? I was being a flatterer.

Maes stiffened nonetheless. "A new set of lungs didn't change what my body had been through the past months. I was fighting sick then. It's been three years. I…"

"I think the sword's a gorgeous plan, Maes," I said. "Way sexier than a stupid gun."

Maes paused. His hug softened and I heard him mumble a laugh. "Okay. So, guess I'll talk to Grandma later."

"Okay," I said. "Sounds good."

"And you?" he said. "You…you like guns about as much as I do."

I snorted. "Yeah, because I can't fire them straight, not because they're limiting."

"Whatever," he said with a smile in his voice. "So, what? You're going to strangle people with vines every time you see a threat?"

His tone was joking, but I knew his words were not. I shook my head and something in his shoulders relaxed a little. "That's barbaric," I said. "And, honestly, it'll probably traumatize the others worse than it's worth. Strangulation will be reserved for emergencies only."

"Last resort," Maes agreed sternly. He shuddered. "Dear God. How can you just say it like that? Strangulation. Damn."

Because I hadn't done it to anyone with my bare hands within the past few hours?

"Maes, I think we need to go over who's going to be okay will fighting and who's just not."

"My dad's off the killing list," said Maes. "So's Uncle Al. They can fight, but I'm not putting them up to taking lives. That's non negotiable."

"I agree."

"You do?"

"You know what kind of wreck those two would be if they killed. Just one time and they'd be useless. Sophie too."

Maes looked relieved at his sister's name. "Yeah, she's not killing anyone."

"I'm getting this strange feeling that George can handle it."

Maes quirked a brow. "Really? Me too."

"Phil can do it," I said. "I mean, he already has."

"Right," said Maes. "Falman, Scar, and Knox, too. They've seen their wars. It goes without saying they can do it if they need to. Lieutenant Karley and Sergeant Bick are from Briggs. General Armstrong should've stomped out enough of their compassion for them to kill without flinching."

Okay, so maybe Maes was sounding passive aggressive, but it was also kind of valid reasoning.

"So far the guys from our research team seem okay," I said. "They're sticking close and it's making them strong. I haven't seen much of Olga to know her take, but I'm pretty sure you can rely on Braddock, Frank, and Mikey to do the hard thing if need be."

"Sergeant Armstrong's a tough kid," said Maes. "But she's still Alex Armstrong's baby. Their temperaments are too close. Given his history, I don't think making his daughter one of my fighters to be relied on is a good idea. She serves the purpose of transporting the injured and supplies just fine without her making herself useful in combat."

"Right," I said. "About the Drachmans…"

"I'm not putting a weapon in their hands. Not until I know more. If conflict arises, they lay low."

"Got it." I nodded. Could never be too careful. "Um, Lacey Wright, I think…green highlights and bad skin from the Court Marshall's office under Selim?"

"Yeah," said Maes. "I don't think so either."

"She's brave, but…"

"Don't want to risk putting her over the edge."

"She nearly cracked when she saw Sergeant Johnson all injured and stuff. She and that lovely old lady are buds. I think maybe it'd be good if Lacey stuck with her, made sure she was okay. I mean, the woman is, like, a hundred years old. She could use a buddy."

"And Knox," said Maes with a kind of darkness to his voice. "He's a tough old man, but he is an old man. He's not like Johnson. He's not prone to speak up if something's bothering him. I hate to have our only certified doctors clumped together, but it would probably be best if Knox stayed with his son as much as possible. Family's more likely to pick up on things and know what to do about it if he starts to struggle with the journey. Jeez. I'm dealing with geriatrics here, Nina!"

"Not alone," I said. "Just repeat that in your head a little."

Maes sighed. "Yeah. Right. Okay, what about you? You're…I mean, you're pregnant."

"I'll let you know."

"But what if you…?"

"I'll let you know. Don't talk about it now. I know you. You're looking for something to worry about because there's familiarity in worrying and you're all into stability right now, but it's going to haunt you in the long run. Don't go looking for fear."

"Right," he said with a sigh. He leaned his cheek on my head. He breathed in the stillness. "Nina…"

He trailed off and didn't continue. I held him tight. I felt his lips on my forehead, his silent gratitude.

"You know," I said, "things never turn out how I had in mind."

Maes's glove jingled as her petted my stomach in small, gentle strokes. "But not all bad."

"Not all bad."

But not all good, either.

"We'll be okay," he said. "I'll have my bearings much better with daylight on my side. We'll get some indication of direction. For all we know, we could be a few short miles from Fort Briggs."

I patted his chest. "Keep telling yourself that."

Maes laughed softly. "A man can dream."

"Jeez. Dreaming of coming into contact with Queen Ice Bitch tomorrow? You've got to be miserable."

"Pretty much," he said without much effort to mask the sincerity.

"You," I said, "going to cry again?"

"Maybe later."

"Yeah, you should probably practice sucking it up. Not that crying's bad. Just, you don't want to be breaking down in front of the others and stuff. Trust me. People take you less seriously once they've seen you have a couple meltdowns in a row."

"Ah," Maes chuckled. "My woman speaks from experience. No, don't sweat it, Nina. The likelihood of me losing it on accident is pretty slim. I may be fairly new to the military, but I'm a seasoned veteran when it comes to putting on a brave face."

I slumped. "Don't have to tell me that."

"Sure I do," he said, giving me a gentle squeeze. "You've gotten too good at reading me. You sometimes forget not everyone sees through my stuff like you do. So, don't worry. If I hand them an emotion they can see, you can bet it's on purpose."

"I don't think your dad knows you killed people."

Maes tensed. "Um, yeah. I don't think so either. I…was pretty low visibility when I did it. I doubt anyone's going to know without me telling them."

"You said it in front of Falman and the Drachman bozos," I said. "Word's going to spread."

"Not from Falman's mouth."

"But it will spread. Maybe you should tell Uncle Ed yourself."

"I think," said Maes, sobering, "that I'd rather not do that."

"Oh. Okay."

Stupid Nina. Of course he wouldn't want to do that. I mean, sure it would prevent a majorly messy outburst if Uncle Ed didn't find out on his own, but this was daddy's-boy Maes we were talking about. He didn't want to tell his father he'd broken Elric moral rule number one. Uncle Ed was predictable. He'd either get mad or get sad. Probably both in heavy doses at the same time, and Maes hated that. He couldn't take that from his old man. _Especially_ not from his old man.

"Well," I said, "maybe we can just tell him he's a grandfather instead."

Maes squeezed my hand. "I like that idea."

"Sophie already told Uncle Al," I said. "I think she was worried after the crash and it kind of just spilled out or something. He caught me in the chaos and tried to get me to slow down. He's worried."

"Well, yeah. So am I. Who wouldn't be?"

"Bob."

"Let's not talk about that dweeb."

"Fine with me."

Maes let out a long sigh. "This is turning out to be one hell of a bummer, you know? First you slip the news to the guys at work and I miss Charlie's face. You spill to my baby sister and I miss her little outburst."

"Not so little."

"Then you let Major Thomas in on it and I miss him tearing up. Wait, Phil did cry, didn't he?"

"Um, not really. I don't know. I sort of told him in hints in the same conversation as telling him about me being a lab baby and all, so it's hard to know what he was feeling altogether."

"Oh, you told him about that?"

"He's red-level."

"If anybody had to know," said Maes, "I'm glad it's him. He cares."

Maes was referring to the fact that we'd narrowly escaped having to tell the higher-ups at HQ about my past involvement with the group we were supposed to be investigating. He was also probably referring to General Armstrong and her potentially cold reaction to said past. That was so completely Maes. Getting sulky over something that hadn't even happened yet.

"My mom knows too," said Maes. "That we're going to have a baby. She found out without me. That's sad."

"Yeah. And when news gets to Central that our train never arrived, she'll probably tell my parents. I wanted to tell my mom right after I told you. She still thinks we're barren, and you know that gets her worse than anybody."

"Well, shoot. Guess I won't be in range for my father in-law's fiery wrath. That's disappointing."

I giggled. "Aw, come on. He's going to be so freaking happy. Why would he burn you over this?"

Maes laughed. "Um, in case you haven't noticed, I kind of knocked up his baby girl. He'll be freaking happy after he gets over that fact. Jeez. He gets this look in his eye sometimes and I swear it's like he's still wrapping his head around you being married. No, there are flames in my future."

"I'll protect you, baby-daddy."

Maes kissed my head. "I appreciate that, dear."

"You think we should make some kind of formal announcement?"

"Hm?"

"Rumors spread fast, and plenty of people overheard my news when I yelled it out to you on the train. Plus Emmett. Plus Sophie. Plus others. Seriously, babe. Rumors get worse than the truth fast. Folks are liable to get ruffled over this."

Maes's countenance shifted. "I don't see how that's their business."

"Don't you get touchy over this," I said. "It's not about what's their business. It's about stability. Like it or not, I'm on your list of dependable soldiers right now and I'm sure a lot of them have realized that. I'm a stabilizing force, and if folks start assuming I'm hiding a pregnancy, they'll assume I'm hiding it because it impairs me. You don't want that."

"You're such a mom," he said. "Really. I…I saw you with Focker earlier. And Emmett. You're really good at this. I'm impressed. Not that I'm surprised. But I can say, if anything held us together tonight, you played a big part in it."

"You know," I said, "I think Nine said something like that to me once. Well, she said it a little more in kid words seeing as we were practically toddlers back then. Think she said something like, 'You're the fun one all the time to us.' Don't really remember perfectly. I think I might've been drugged at the time. Hazy, you know? Normally I remember my conversations with her pretty clear. Bet I'd just gotten tranquilized for breaking a rule about sharing my water with the ones who were on restriction for the day. Mm, no. Something like that would've earned me a kick to the head. Maybe that's what got me dizzy."

Maes's arms came mega tight around me and he leaned his face against my head. Oh, right. Talking open about this stuff wasn't cheerful and he was breaking at the seams as it was. Oops.

"Hey," I said gently. "That wasn't a sad memory. That was a happy one. No need to get like that."

"Wish I was like you," he said.

"You're good, baby. Completely great."

"You don't get it," he said. "We're so different, you know that? You suck at hiding it when you've got something freaking you out. You always have. I just stuff it and tough it. You've been facing these battlefields head-on since you were a baby."

"So have you. We both had our problems."

"Yeah, but I didn't exactly dwell on mine." He sounded disgusted. "Every time I did, I'd end up turning into some kind of terrified wreck. I still don't like talking about all that past illness stuff."

"Pushing it aside and moving on is strength in itself."

"No. It's a barrier. It's like you've been facing your demons so much for so long you've built up callouses they can't break past. I've just got some stupid wall hiding my weaknesses. Soon as the demons get through, I'm toast."

"I like toast."

"Nina, I'm serious! Forget the fact I can make myself look okay in front of the men. I'm just hiding like I always do."

"Is that really so bad?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"Because I don't like it!"

"Okay then." I ran my hand up and down his shivering back. "Then we'll talk about it."

"What if I don't want to talk about it?"

"Then I'll allow you to sing about it." Great sacrifice. Maes could not sing for shit.

"Don't want to do that either."

"Maes…"

He huffed. "Look, you wouldn't get it, okay? You were right. We do have very different perspectives on mortality. You…you know about life forces and souls and the afterlife and all that, and that's fine. I respect that, but that's not me. I know about death. I know about dying. I know about finality. When you think of killing, you think circle of life and heaven or whatever. I think killing, I just think death. I think, 'the end.' People die and that's all I see. Over. There was life and now there's not and it's because of me. So…so pardon me if I don't feel like talking about it."

I couldn't help but smile. Because he'd just talked about it and he was aware. Just saving face by disguising it as a refusal to open up. I'd give that to him.

"I understand," I said. "Well, maybe some other time. When you're ready."

"Thanks for cleaning off my gloves."

"No problem." I sucked my lip. "Um, Maes?"

"Yeah?"

"Why," I hesitated, "didn't you bury the dead?"

Maes didn't seem fazed. "You want the truth, huh?"

I nodded.

Maes breathed. "You overheard my conversation with the Drachman diplomats earlier, right?"

I nodded.

"They don't know much about this enemy," he said. "I've put some possibilities together, though."

I'd figured as much. I mean, he'd had several hours to think about it and this was Maes. "They said small attacks on outlying villages?" I said. "They're forcing the border inward. You suggested an invasion from, like, Aerugo."

"But then they said the people making these attacks haven't specified their country or organization yet. Invasions come from nations who've become confident enough in their strength to presume to swallow lesser nations. I was wrong about it being an invasion from another country. They were wrong about it being acts of terrorists. It's just too discreet to qualify as an organization set on making an impact."

"Then?" I said. He had an answer.

"I don't know," said Maes. "It's all speculation at this point. I just…well, they said this enemy didn't use alchemy, but, if I had to make a guess, I'd say it's more like this enemy doesn't use _combat_ alchemy. There's a chance whoever attacked us really is involved with the group that's responsible for the child kidnappings. There's a chance whoever attacked us has been abducting the children and selling them to the organization we're investigating, or maybe they're part of that organization. Hell, maybe we've got ourselves a bunch of hands clawing their way to another Philosopher's Stone incident. All I know is, when Amestris was involved in all that twisted stuff with Ishval, we sent corpses to our labs to be worked on by our doctors. Ask Knox. He went through hundreds of salvaged Ishvalan corpses during his time over there and the stuff he was ordered to do wasn't pretty. Anyway, I wasn't taking chances with Melanie Davidson or our other fatalities. I'd rather them turn to ash then risk their bodies being dug up by the enemy and then used as lab material."

I swallowed. "Yeah, but you didn't even say a few sweet words or anything."

"No, I did not." Maes's voice was not chipper. "I skipped that. Wasn't really feeling it."

In other words, he hadn't known what to say.

"It's weird," he said. "We worked right down the hall from her for three years and I can't say I knew the first thing about her. Sweet smile. Lot of energy. That's about it."

"She was friendly with Howard Bale," I said. "That's the only reason I ever bothered to remember her name. You've got to be special to like Bale."

"Consider me special," said Maes. "Can't say I've been partial to him before, but I appreciated him stepping in with Lovett earlier."

"Yeah, I saw you getting angry."

"I stopped for Fuery, not for a potential screaming match with an unsatisfied subordinate."

"Yep, Bale's been out of character cool," I said. "Does it make you wonder if he was really a jerk to begin with?"

"He's been a jerk, Nina." Maes let out a steady breath. "Makes me wonder why, is all."

"Maybe he sleeps in a bed with two wrong sides."

Maes chuckled softly. "Maybe."

Maes's gentle laughter snagged in his throat. His hands tightened on me like a reflex, my heart skipping as the muffled sound of groaning from inside reached our ears. The sound was sharp. Cries of pain or maybe cries of horror. No, they dragged too much. This was definitely pain and I could swear by the breaks that it was George.

Maes shivered. "That's Fuery."

I nodded slowly, ears tuned to George's agonized voice. This was the first noise from inside to really make it to the roof and really stand out. George was being loud. I winced, recalling our little troop's depleted medical supplies. We were out of painkillers.

"How bad was the frostbite, Nina?" said Maes, voice thick with guilt.

"This isn't your fault." I squeezed his hand and he squeezed mine back harder.

I felt Maes's muscles tighten at the sound of the door below swinging open. I looked over. Mikey was on the ground looking all around with a face like a little kid who'd lost his mom in the mall. "Major Mustang?" he said, stepping out further. George was loud with the door open.

"Up top, Mikey," I said, waving.

Mikey jumped a little like I'd totally completely startled him. He pivoted in his steps to look up at me. "Major Mustang?"

"Yeah?" I said. "Time for me to come inside?"

"Major Braddock said we could get you if…"

"Sergeant Fuery needed a little extra backup?"

Mikey hugged his arms and spoke shakily. "His foot's really hurting him. I think they're going to take off a few toes."

Maes's quick inhale was sharp in my trained ears. I patted his knee and gestured to the ground. He nodded and guided me down the ladder. My boots sank in the snow.

"I'm keeping watch," Maes said with little emotion.

"Yes, sir," I said. He was telling us to take our time.

His fingers brushed my hand in a silent goodbye and he went back to the roof. Fuery groaned inside. Mikey looked at the door like he might be sick. Poor Mikey. He was barely twenty, the private school kind of kid who'd done the military because his parents had done the military. Damn it! Why did I feel so sorry for these people? We were all going through the same thing and I felt bad because I was handling it easier! Where's the logic in that?

"Let's go inside," I said.

* * *

**Automail toes would be the dumbest thing ever. Like, why? Why would you even go there? ...Just saying.**

REPLIES!

kingkill567: That would be a total of five *winces at thought*

Evarria: Thanks! It's one of my favorites too. Definitely different.

RootlessGirl: For a moment while I was reading your review, I seriously considered re-titling this fic 'Poor Babies.'

sadiefoxx: Haha, I'm glad you feel that way ;)

Cap'nHoozits: Yeah, I'm glad I finally got to deliver on that Scar-action I put in the description :)

KTrevo: I nominate...Alphonse to play Oprah!

AllINoIsImNotAwesome: Guess we'll see... ;)

Harryswoman: I know, right? It's the flukes that make it big. I'm tellin' ya.

mixmax300: Haha, what good's summer if you aren't tuckering yourself out by the end of it?

Aya p: Thanks bunches! I have amazing readers :)

**CHALLENGE: Actually, it's more like a question. What's your idea of a good romance story? Likes/dislikes? Do you even like romantic stuff? (I'd think you would given you've read this far into the FL series, haha) Let me know. I'm actually really interested.**


	15. The Sergeant's Decision

**A/N: Doodles for ch13/14/15 are going up on dA. Link on profile!**

* * *

Chapter 15: The Sergeant's Decision

Mikey led the way like a dog who'd been let off its leash, like he'd just been waiting for me to give the word. Poor baby. His words and actions were mildly composed, but his movements were too sharp to hide how scared he was.

The fort actually looked bigger on the inside than it did from the outside, which was a little unexpected. Maybe it was the low light. There was a fire off center giving enough light for people to see okay, but not enough to read by at the far walls. Most everyone was curled up and snoozing or laying awake kind of numb like they'd never been so tired. There were those, like green-highlights-Lacey, doting over an injured buddy. There was Uncle Ed holding a whimpering Sophie while Uncle Al stroked her blond ruffled hair. There was Grandma Izumi soothing what seemed to be a freshly woken Blake Focker. Selim was absolutely conked out in a corner. Dang, that guy liked shadows. Elysia had sent him off with plenty of photographs and I was kind of grateful to her now that I saw Selim had fallen asleep with one in his hand.

We shut the door and Mikey led me, weaving around soldiers curled up on melting snow. I'd have to tell Maes next time to clear the snow from the floor. All it would take was one touch from those gorgeous gloves of his.

George was right next to the fire under a heck-ton of blankets and coats, more than I saw on anyone else, and he couldn't have been the only one who'd gotten too cold out there. I wondered if they'd made him top priority or if his condition was just the only one they hadn't gotten under control yet. I was guessing the latter by how violently he was shivering under the layers with both Knox and Knoxy Junior kneeling at his side. Didn't seem right that George would be shaking like that. The room wasn't exactly toasty, but it was tolerable with the fire and without the wind. Our whole team was clumped around him, even poor Frank with his stitched-up head. Olga and Braddock had both given up their coats to George and I caught Olga rubbing her arms and shuddering like she was chilly and not comfortable at all.

Braddock had his bare hand around George's, sharing warmth and offering comfort at the same time. As I approached, I got a better look at faces. Everyone on the team looked almost too alert, watching George like hawks and breathing fearful breaths as the cutie moaned and twitched under his layers like a mummy waking from the dead. Most of the people in the room who were still awake had their gazes directed George's way, Scar's among them and even he looked uneasy. Knox and his son looked pretty bothered as they looked over a foot with blackening toes.

As I drew near, I saw they'd taken George's glasses off his face and there were some blisters where the frames had rested on the bridge of his nose and the sides of his face. His ears were so red it looked unnatural, like they'd been dyed that way. He was too pale. Too shaky. Jeez! It'd been, like, an hour! Why did he look worse?

"Major," Braddock said with clear relief as I came beside him. He scooted and held out George's hand, indicating we were to switch places. "Hey, Fuery, Major Mustang's here."

I removed my gloves and took George's icy hand, feeling the warmed patches where Braddock had held. I layered both hands around his. George's immediate responding grip was shockingly tight. His eyes cracked open and I watched them try to focus on me. I heard his breath wheeze through chattering teeth.

"Hey, baby," I said. "I'm here."

The slight smile that made it to his face brought tears to my eyes. I blinked them back. This was a bad time to get all pregnant and touched.

"He asked for you," said Frank in a soft, serious tone. Like the words meant more than the words themselves.

I smiled. "Surprised he could ask much of anything through those chattering toothies." I felt my smile fading. "Why is he still shaking? It's been an hour. I think."

"Forty five minutes," said Mikey, sitting by Olga and giving her a warming rub on the arm as she continued to shiver.

Dr. Knox spoke with a sour frown. "And we spent most of that time just getting the kid warm enough to shiver in the first place. He's hypothermic. I'm seventy-six years old, and I barely got nipped out there."

"Dad, you're eighty-two," said Knoxy Junior with a fond smile.

"Shut up, you jackass," Knox said. "I know my age. Point is, this kid's not making sense. We've got injured and elderly fairing better than him. We got the asthma under control. Besides that, he's young and healthy. I'll be blunt. The kind of damage I'm seeing here suggests some kind of chronic circulatory condition."

I blinked. I looked at the others. They looked just as at a loss as the doctors. "Seriously? You guys have known George since we were kids." I turned to Knox. "And so have you, geezer. He's an asthmatic. He's been taking corticosteroids off and on since he was a baby. It's in the daily inhaler! Circulatory issues kind of come with the territory. I mean, dear God."

Knox paused like I'd said something not expected and it made me want to smack him upside the head. Did no one remember this crap? Mr. Fuery used to give George his 'puffs,' like, right in front of us when we were kids. George did his inhaler at the office every morning, for crying out loud. He brought lunch from home every day because the cafeteria was too high-sodium and his meds messed with his blood pressure!

George squeezed my hand and stifled a moan. I swallowed. "Why's he in so much pain?"

"He's got frostbite," Knox said a little impatient.

"Yeah," I said. "But he wasn't groaning until just a minute ago. At least, not loud enough to hear from outside."

"We had to get him close to the fire," said Knoxy Junior. "Calming the hypothermia was our first priority, but as a result, we also exposed the frostbitten areas to direct heat. The thawing process is painful on its own, but exposure to direct heat can cause burns. It can't really be helped."

My mouth turned down. I took one hand off George's grip and stroked his heatless forehead. Slowly, his creased brow began to relax. I spoke low. "How bad is it?"

I met Knoxy's eyes. He looked grave. Not the reaction I'd hoped for, but very much expected. At least they weren't acting like death was likely. There was that.

Dr. Knox cut in gruffly. "I'd say it's up to Sergeant Fuery how we carry on from here. We've done all we can to get him stable. All that's left is deciding whether we amputate tonight."

George's hand twitched in mine and our team twitched around us. I maintained my brave-face and nodded for the docs to go on.

"There are pros and cons to either side of it," said Knoxy Junior. "Being furthest from his heart, his feet have experienced the worst damage. Everything else should heal without a problem if we can limit further exposure. I'm particularly worried about his right foot. Some of his toes are already turning black. If we were at a hospital, I'd keep him under care for a few weeks before I determined whether the tissue could recover, but staying inside long-term doesn't seem to be an option right now. The long and short of it is, if Fuery waits, there's a chance both feet will make a full recovery. However, waiting also implies continued exposure to the elements during the healing process while the damaged tissue is still vulnerable. If the cold ends up causing further damage, he could end up losing more than just a few digits. Like my father said, it's up to the Sergeant now on how we proceed."

George's voice was gentle on the air. "Y-You can go ahead. I'm f-f-fine."

George's words got him wide-eyed looks from more than just our team members and doctors. People in the room I hadn't even realized were awake turned their heads. I petted George's worried brow. Somehow, I'd known he was going to say that. I sucked my lip.

"You sure, kid?" Braddock said. "No painkillers left after earlier."

"He's sure," I said. I got some looks. "Don't worry. He's barely hanging to consciousness as it is. He'll pass out from the pain before it gets too bad."

George gave me a grateful little half-smile, but the guys just looked horrified. To be honest, I wasn't wild about the idea of my little subordinate getting an amputation of any kind, even if it was just toes. But, by how Knoxy described it, sounded like there was a steady chance that if George let his feet all damaged out in the cold, it would only get worse for later. I'd heard horror stories of people's fingers and toes falling off when frostbite got out of hand. It was kind of an obvious decision and George had made it for himself. He'd probably made it before I'd even come in. Maybe that was why he'd wanted me to come in at all. Nonetheless, if Georgie was going to be brave, then damn well so was I. Common sense.

As Knox and Knoxy talked and prepped, this cloud of unrest seemed to thicken and expand around the room, starting with our research team. George had his eyes closed and I could tell he was trying to keep from breathing panicked as he waited for the inevitable. I watched Mikey tensing up and realized he was probably deciding whether he needed to get away. Olga had turned her head like they were doing it already. Tender heart like her dad. Maes had called that. Frank and Braddock were just watching in stone silence with hard eyes.

"We'll have to be quick," Konxy was whispering to his dad. "Who knows how long before the General says we need to press on?"

"General Elric said he'd keep watch," I said. "That means he's giving us as long as we need. Don't you dare rush this."

"Yes, ma'am," Knoxy said quickly. The guy was old enough to be my dad. Him calling me ma'am made me feel like he wouldn't do his job with confidence.

I looked down at George to find he'd opened his eyes to me. He was squinting, whether from pain or from just not being able to see without his glasses. I brushed his hair with my fingers. "You okay?" I asked quietly.

He gave me a little nod. "How's the…how's G-General Elric?"

"He slept on the train," I said. "He can stand to stay up."

George's eyes drooped a little like that hadn't been what he'd been asking, but he gave me a nod anyway. "Always," he said, "always k-kind of thought it'd be cool, coming home w-with battle scars someday. I m-m-mean, be nice having something about me look tough. S-Severed toes, though? Don't know. Sounds weird-looking."

I nodded. "You're going to look ridiculous in sandals."

His tired face stretched into a grin. I smiled back. For a moment, George's shivers were interrupted with gentle quakes of laughter. Then Knoxy said, "We're ready to begin."

Braddock and Frank agreed to hold George down under the assumption that George would pass out and no longer need much restraining within minutes of being cut into. I held his shaking hand under a similar assumption, but apparently George hadn't read the instructions on how you're supposed to react when someone cuts parts of your foot off. He was very awake.

George moaned into a rolled up hanky we'd stuffed in his mouth as Knox and Knoxy took their merry time carving his foot down. I tried not to feel sick from the blood. The smell was enough to make my two-week pregnant tummy churn. George clung to my hand and I listened to him cling for breath. I tried not to look up at all the eyes pointed down to him. I tried not to get angry at them for looking. Something about having an audience for pain never ceased to bother me.

"It's okay, kid," Braddock soothed. "You're doing great. Almost done."

Not that Braddock could know that. He hadn't even dared a look at what the doctors were doing to poor George's feet, but sometimes reassurance was all in how you chose to phrase things. George let out an especially high-pitched groan and I impulsively looked where the doctors were working just in time to see a bloody, blackened stub plunk heavy into a metallic pan under George's right foot. My stomach heaved bile up the back of my throat. I looked back at George's face. His eyes had gotten wide like maybe he felt the absence of what had just come off or maybe he'd heard it hit the pan. His lids screwed shut and he groaned as pain kept coming and he didn't pass out.

"You said this would knock him out," Mikey said shakily like I'd tricked him or something.

"Sometimes bodies don't follow the rules," I said. "He'll be okay. It's just pain."

"Just pain?" said Mikey with horror in his voice. I caught a glare on his face. "Easy for you to say."

"Havoc," Frank snapped with a stern frown. "Mind your place."

Some kind of anger heated my face for a moment. George kept shaking and groaning under Braddock and Frank's restraining hands. I could feel Mikey's glare on me. I let out a hard breath. "Screw you, Michael Havoc. Like hell it's easy for me to say." George cried out and I heard another clunk as he lost a second toe to the metal pan. I grumbled at Mikey as I smudged strained tears from George's face. "I didn't trick him into this, you whiny asshole."

I didn't look up to see anyone's reaction. I was afraid it would make me mad or apologetic or something. As if it was possible, George held my hand tighter.

The amputating and sewing up and everything only took about twenty minutes altogether. Not even. Not long at all. It just felt long. George vomited shortly after they'd finished bandaging his stumpy feet. I nearly vomited too out of sympathy. He stayed awake, though. They got the hanky out of his mouth and he muttered that he couldn't pass out from the pain. The pain was keeping him awake. I had Knoxy Junior go out and update Maes about everything and where we were at now. George didn't seem interested in letting go of my hand.

"You know," I said, "I think this might've been just what you needed. The shock from getting amputated on without anesthesia is giving you a fever. I think I see some color coming back to your face."

George didn't answer, but his eyes smiled slightly.

"You did good, kid," said Braddock. He reached and gave George's hair a tousle. "Proud of you." Oh, gosh. What a total daddy.

Olga nodded with a sheen of tear tracks drying on her cheeks. "Olga admires your bravery."

"I'll second that," said Frank with a gentleness in his smile that I'd never seen before.

"Man," said Mikey with a weak grin. "You don't need scars to make you tough, Sergeant."

George actually managed a smile at that. So Mikey was officially forgiven for making me feel bad earlier.

"Hey," I said. "You guys should get some rest. I'll stay with him."

"I'm fine," said Mikey, and the others each gave nods and grunts of agreement.

"I'm sure you are," I said. "But once we start walking, there's no telling how long it's going to be before we get to stop again. I'm small enough to be carried if I get weary on my feet. You guys need to get your strength when you can. We've got injured folks and supplies to be hefted and you're some of the brawn we'll depend on hefting it. You got me? Get some rest."

Frank sighed. "She's right. General Elric has enough to worry about without his men tiring themselves out."

They curled up where they sat. There wasn't much else empty in the room. Old-man Knox was snoring. Good. The guy was ancient. Weren't old people supposed to be in bed by five? I held George's hand and stroked his clammy face, my heart sinking with every whimper and sharp breath he made. Poor baby. Poor, poor baby. I wanted to ask Uncle Al for some alkehestry action, maybe just take the edge off the pain, but the reason we'd amputated in the first place was to get rid of vulnerable, damage-prone tissue. Alkehestry weakened everything it healed.

"M-Major?" George muttered.

"Here," I said. "You feel sick again?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine."

"You're looking better."

He opened his eyes a little and gave a washed out smile. His eyelids drooped closed. "Ask you something?"

"Yeah?"

He breathed. "What…what happened to you when you were a kid?"

I felt my neck tense. "When I was a kid?" As if I didn't know what he was asking.

"You say you came," he said, "from a bad situation. Was wondering…how you're so used to this."

"I…" I paused. My eyes glanced around briefly. Others were bound to be listening. I sucked my lip. "Well, I…" What was that Maes had said? About being good at talking about it? I took a calming breath. "I spent the first three years of my life with guardians who pretty much had no regard for anyone but themselves. It stands to reason I'd be used to crap like this."

"But," said George, "what happened?"

What happened? Well, I can't tell you. So there.

I'd just dodge it.

"To be honest," I said, "until a few years ago, I barely remembered myself. I had fragments, sure. Pretty bad nightmares. But, for the most part, it was so bad that I ended up suppressing the memories." I frowned. "I acted traumatized. Acted like I'd had the fight stomped out of me. I was just hazy as to why. So stupid. I was so scared all the time and I couldn't even remember what I was afraid of." I sighed and met George's slits-for-eyes. "We knew each other a little growing up, right? I mean, I know you were younger, but you remember what a good girl I was, don't you?"

George nodded. "Quieter than you are now."

"Yeah, well, I'm a little more willing to speak up now," I laughed.

He gave me a faded smile. "You always have something to say."

I laughed, patting his shoulder. My smile fell slowly. I let out a breath. I looked at my knees. "Listen, George…um, maybe this is stating the obvious, but I don't really talk about what happened to me when I was a kid."

His brow crumpled with a kind of concern I wasn't expecting, too vivid an expression compared to the small winces and gentle smiles he'd been giving. "It was…that bad?" he said softly.

"George, I…" My eyes felt warm. Bad time to get touched, but he was just so sweet and he'd had his toes cut off for goodness sake! I touched his cheek. "You got nothing to worry about."

"Really?" he said.

I put on a smile. "Yeah."

"If it were me," he said, "I'd be too scared. If it was enough to traumatize you all your life, I doubt I'd want to go back to it. You're brave. To do this."

Was he inadvertently saying he had doubts about me being okay? Because that was kind of how it sounded. Cute booger.

"I _don't_ want this," I said. "I don't want blood and watching strong people break down. I don't want to listen to people I care about scream. I'm with you, George. I don't want to go back to this. I just…want to pull other people out."

George smiled, eyes closing sluggishly. "That's a good answer, ma'am."

"Why, thanks."

"Always knew…you'd be the soldier if we got in trouble."

I blinked. He was talking tired, but I got the gist of what he meant. He was saying what Braddock had said about him a couple weeks before. He was saying he looked up to me. Hypothetically.

"You deserve a medal, baby," I said. I swept his dark bangs with my fingers. "Sergeant."

"We'll see, ma'am," he said with that little George smile.

"Sleep?"

He took a long breath. He nodded. I rested my hand on his forehead, feeling his warmth. His. I breathed a little easier. He was hardly shivering now. I half wondered if the shallow shaking now was from the pain and not the cold anymore. I didn't ask. Just held his hand and stroked his cool face until the tension left it enough for me to know he was finally asleep.

"Mike," I whispered. I'd caught him opening his eyes a few times during me and George's conversation, but he sat up with a flush like he hadn't realized I'd noticed. I shrugged and gave him a smile. "Hey."

He cleared his throat quietly. "Um, how is he? I mean, is he asleep?"

I nodded, petting George's brow as it creased and relaxed. "Sleeping."

"I apologize," Mikey whispered. "For speaking out of turn earlier, Major."

"You were scared. We always want something to blame when we're scared. I shouldn't have taken it so freaking personal. Sorry for calling you a whiny asshole. You didn't deserve that."

Mikey's eyes dropped like maybe he figured he did deserve it. Ouch. I watched his jaw shift like he wanted to say something but he wasn't finding the words.

I spoke first. "Since you're awake, you think you could go outside and tell the General about George falling asleep? It'd be good if we stayed put at least another hour to give Georgie some snooze time before we move on, but our commander knows better about what's possible."

Mikey nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Thanks."

Mikey looked at me as he stood. "Major…I have to ask."

I met his blue eyes. "Mm?"

He hesitated. "When does the General plan on sleeping?"

Oh. That. I sucked my lip. "Maes knows his limits. He'll sleep when he needs to."

Mikey was a smart guy. He seemed to get I'd dodged the question. Still, he nodded and headed out without pestering me for a more specific answer. To be truthful with myself, I had no idea when Maes would sleep. He had a lot of thinking to do.

And me? I was an insomniac. Sleep deprivation wasn't ever really a crippling factor in my case. I was used to it.

As others slept, their exhausted breaths filling the fire-warmed room, I slipped a bare hand over my flat stomach and thought about entering my life force. Sophie had ordered me against doing it until the chest tattoo was completely healed since letting the Dragon's Pulse flow through me could be dangerous if the matrix wasn't stable. Localizing a transmutation to my already finalized wrist matrixes shouldn't have been a problem. I had enough control not to let the flow reach the new matrix yet. Right? I mean, the struggle I'd had on the train trying to strike a balance in flow with the vines had been special circumstances. I'd been under stress. It was a big job. It wasn't even a life force I'd been dealing with. It was just energy through plants. I was tons more adept with life forces than I was with plant forces. Life forces were like breathing as far as I was concerned.

Metaphorically, I was talking about risking the wellbeing of my child's soul based on my ability to hold my breath. But that wasn't how it was at all. I knew that. I just couldn't get my head around those stupid vines. Connecting to life's flow had never been an effort for me. So why had I felt so strained when I'd been keeping the train from tipping? I knew that Maes was the one to talk to about it, puzzle through the whole thing, but a childish part of me was feeling like getting a tattoo against his wishes had seemed like a better idea at the time and I didn't want him to be unhappy with me and I was debating whether he needed to know about it just yet.

I heard Uncle Ed's low voice hiss, "Damn it," under his breath. I looked over to where he sat with Sophie asleep on his shoulder. He was rubbing his left thigh, pretty near where his automail started, if memory served. He had a wince on his tired face, pulled and droopy eyes like maybe he'd actually fallen asleep for a while.

"How's your leg?" I whispered.

Uncle Ed looked at me and blinked slowly like he'd barely woken. "Fine."

I arched a brow.

He sighed. "Just a little sore."

"Automail thawed?" I said.

Uncle Ed smiled. "You kidding? Winry would never let me go up North without altering my leg first. My automail's not going to freeze. My stump's just sore. Happens with the snow sometimes."

"Yeah," I said. "I'm more or less an expert with that. The pain woke you?"

"I only dozed," Uncle Ed said in a passive affirmative. "So, how's Fuery?"

"Sleeping."

"Good."

"Yep." I looked at my wilted sister in-law. "How's she?"

Uncle Ed's expression fell slightly. "Oh, Sophie? She'll be fine. This whole thing just caught her off guard." He looked at his daughter lying against him. His eyes showed concern that made me wonder to what level he believed what he was saying about her. He puffed out a breath and rubbed his stump again. "So, how's my son? Figuring it out? Saving the world?"

I smiled. "Something like that."

"He's…" Uncle Ed's eyes held mine with an unspoken understanding. "He's not taking too much on, is he? I shouldn't worry?"

"He's your commanding officer. It's not your job to worry about him in the first place." And I meant that.

But Uncle Ed didn't seem impressed. "He's my son."

"He's my husband," I said. "But I'm calling him General right now."

Uncle Ed's stare turned a little suspicious, like he was studying me. His mouth turned down. "Everything all right, Nina?"

I sucked my lip. I dropped my gaze to George's hand in mine. "Look, I'm all for playing things casual and friendly around the office, but now's different, Uncle Ed. Too much is happening and too much hangs in the balance. Take a look at your daughter. If we as a unit let emotions control our behavior under this kind of stress, we'll crumble. Maes can't afford to feel right now. He needs you to do the same for his sake. Take my advice. Call him _General_."

"That's great and all, but worrying about my son's part of being his parent. You'll understand someday, kiddo. Just take a breath."

"He's not your son right now." I met Uncle Ed's eyes. "He's a General. Thirty-one lives currently depend on his decisions. If we get attacked again, which we probably will, he'll be ordering his men to kill and he will be leading by example. You get that, right?"

Something angry and scared flashed in Uncle Ed's gold eyes. His face sank into a glare. "Maes would never…"

"He already has," I said.

Uncle Ed's expression faltered. His eyes narrowed. "What…what do you mean?"

"Maes took out five of the men who ambushed us," I said. "The inside-man driving the train and then four sniper-guys too hidden for our guns to reach. He killed them, Major Elric. And he'll kill again if he has to."

Uncle Ed shook his head slowly, a sheet-white look of disbelief washing over his face. "No," was all he could say.

"Yes," I said.

"But…he…"

"He had no other choice," I said. "He was willing to dirty his hands for the sake of his men. You need to be proud of him right now. If nothing else, be reasonable. He refused to tell you himself because he was afraid of your reaction. He can't afford to _feel_ right now, you get it? He can't afford to fear Daddy's reactions. Don't you do your Elric moral trip right now. You're a soldier. He's your commander. You don't question his decisions."

"He…" Uncle Ed trailed off. His mouth fell shut and tightened in a line. He looked away, brow pinching. He appeared way bothered. It was clear enough he was thinking and not going to talk. I sucked my lip and hoped he was trying to come to terms with the news instead of working himself up over it. It would be good if he didn't blow up in Maes's face later in spite of my efforts.

When Mikey came back in from talking to Maes, I noticed his clothes smelled like cigarette smoke as he walked by me. I didn't say anything, but I wondered how the heck he'd gotten away with smoking right there with Maes watching. Knoxy had warned earlier about risk factors for frostbite, and smoking slowed circulation enough to be considered one of them. Maes would probably know that.

Mikey had been a teen smoker until his dad had treated it as a wake-up call and agreed to quit if Mikey quit with him. It had been a beautiful thing. Mikey and his dad had been cigarette-free since a year ago, as far as I knew. The fact that he'd started up again after the night's events was sad. I remembered Mikey's glare and harsh, desperate words when George had been screaming through the amputation. Maybe Mikey wasn't as okay as I'd been giving him credit for.

I remembered just a day ago, his reaction to the picture of the dead girl on the projector. His thin grimace. When I'd vomited and sobbed at the image, he'd commented I was the only one reacting realistically. I'd taken it as maybe insensitive or awkward at the time, but maybe he'd been saying he felt like vomiting and sobbing with me. I wondered how he'd gotten cigarettes out here, if he'd brought them himself, if he'd known this investigation was going to be too much for him, that it was only a matter of time and he may as well bring his own cigarettes.

* * *

**Nina's research team's like a little family ;w;**

**Selim falling asleep with Elysia's pic in his hand? Fricking cute! I swear. All the homunculi in the series just wanted friends. Except Bradley. I don't even know with that guy. I never figured him out.**

REPLIES!

ArtisticFantasy: Yeah, I'm all for affection and sweetness, but fluff is nothing if it hasn't got a foundation of selfless commitment under it. You go, girl.

Evarria: Ed, George, Nina, and dynamite- proof that strength comes in small packages. And I totally agree; relationships that are unbalanced or untested tend to be unhealthy. I can't do happy all the time. That's just denial.

RootlessGirl: Haha, to be honest, I didn't plan on Naes happening until the end-ish of FL, but then I ended up winging it and it turned out a little different. Even so, the dynamic between Nina and Maes is pretty awesome to write about with the three-year time laps since their unorthodox beginning wasn't perfect; left a lot of room for growth and junk. Happy accident ;)

KTrevo: Tasteful romance! That's pretty much the common sentiment in these reviews in a nutshell. Ha, I can just see in the middle of that tundra this helicopter comes down for an emergency 'George' rescue :D Gah, perfect!

SilverPedals1402: Remember how during FL everyone was giving me reviews like, 'DON'T KILL ED!' Now it's like that except, 'DON'T HURT GEORGE!' *sniff* I'm sorry.

mixmax300: It's okay. He'll just look ridiculous in sandals from now on *shaky I'm-sorry-George smile* Yeah, getting married doesn't exactly fix people, and Nina and Maes are pretty broken. It's a dang good thing they're compatible :D

Harryswoman: Poor Ed, getting all brooding. I feel like a good third of the reason he's not verbally freaking over Maes killing is because he's got PTSD-Sophie asleep on his shoulder :S

AllINoIsImNotAwesome: Ha, nice comparison with Braddock and Tucker. Tucker was cookoo-crazy. I have no idea how he got past the psych evaluation when joining the military O.o As for relationships, I'm a really affectionate person, so I'm all for hugs and kisses and sweet-talk, but the kind of instability behind it like you mentioned? Ugh, I feel the same. It makes the romantic stuff hollow.

justaislinn: Haha! I appreciate your appreciation for Bob-references :P Omg, they need to appoint Nina and Izumi to the positions of 'Resident Mom.' Braddock, Ed, and Al can be 'Resident Dad.' Fuery and Emmet can be 'Resident Adorable.' Maes can appoint the Drachman peeps as 'Resident Evil' (practice has made a bad movie-pun)

**The replies to that challenge were mega interesting, guys! And, to be honest, inspiring. I think a lot of people in this world are searching for authentic, intentional relationships (romantic or otherwise), and a good portion of the media hasn't exactly encouraged that. So, go you! When I get published (because I try not to talk in 'ifs'), know you were the audience I had in mind!**


	16. General Effect

**A/N: I am so sorry for the wait, you guys. I had the beginning of this chapter written weeks ago and then life hit and it just kept coming for a while. But we're good now. Enjoy the chapter! It's a good one :)**

* * *

Chapter 16: General Effect

Maes came into the fortress and stood in the open doorway. It would've been hard for anyone who wasn't looking for it to tell, but I could see his pupils vibrating as he surveyed his men and kept watch on the outside at the same time. Heads turned and looked up as the cold air rushed inside our haven. The many who'd managed to fall asleep and stay asleep were quickly roused as Maes's smooth, assertive tone resonated through the room.

"Attention," he said. "It's been three hours. The break is over. I want everyone outside in a single-file line in five minutes. Major Mustang and Major Elric, you come with me now."

I smiled to myself. So, Maes had decided what we were going to do. I could see it in his confident features, hear it in his voice. He'd figured this out same as he did everything else. The mental lists in this guy's head. It scared me to think what they'd look like on paper.

Scented paper. Stationary. With lots of stickers.

I felt George's hand tighten around mine in a gentle squeeze. He looked up at me, breathing in a kind of yawn. He smiled.

"Morning already?" he said. His voice had gone hoarse. Made it painfully obvious he'd been coughing and groaning for hours before falling asleep.

I patted his head. "You're cute."

"General says we have to get in a line?" George said. "Don't know if I can."

Braddock knelt beside me, put a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry about Fuery. We got his back. You go on see what the General wants."

George looked up at me a little apprehensive for a moment. Braddock took his hand off my shoulder and put it on George's instead. George looked up at Braddock and then shifted his gaze to where Mikey, Frank, and Olga were getting themselves up nearby. He looked up at me with his big brown eyes and released my hand. He smiled.

"See you around, Major," George said.

I stood. "Stay warm, baby."

It was dark, but the clouds had relented enough for steady moonlight. I got outside and Uncle Ed was already standing with Maes, talking in low voices about how we could be inconspicuous about me going down the line and checking everyone's life forces before we started marching. They seemed to be leaning toward the idea that they didn't care that much that my life force alchemy was borderline illegal given laws against the use of Philosopher's Stones and all that. If checking life forces saved lives, we'd deal with court martials later.

"Sir," I said, giving Maes a salute as I came to join them.

Maes looked at me. He looked at Uncle Ed. He looked around the side of the fort. "We'll take this conversation somewhere private."

With that, Maes led the way to the other side of the fort, out of sight and out of earshot of those coming out the door to form a line. Maes stopped at the wall and leaned against it with a long exhale, pinching his brow like his brain was tired. Could not blame the man.

"Major Mustang, as soon as we get back over," Maes started.

"I go down the line and check life forces for flaws while you make mental notes of my findings?" I did a thumbs-up. "Gotcha."

Maes managed a faded smile. He nodded. I caught the tortured look in Uncle Ed's eyes as he watched his son's every move. I didn't have to think hard to know what was going on in my father in-law's mind. Going by the standards Uncle Ed set for himself, Maes had murdered. Uncle Ed was warring between his own resolve and his ability to make an exception. Wait, did Uncle Ed even have the ability to compromise on, like, anything? The guy was so wrapped up in black and white that he could barely grasp alchemy that broke the rules enough to get his darn alchemy back.

"Major Elric," said Maes, finally. "You should know I didn't ask you here for anything more than personal reasons. Actually, what I'm about to say, Major Mustang is already well informed on. I just…thought it fitting she be present."

I caught the glint of muted excitement in Maes's eyes as he shot me a glance. Uncle Ed had his eyes down, his brow pinched in a distraught kind of way. Before Maes could continue, Uncle Ed took a breath and spoke in a voice that was too quiet for him.

"It's okay, Maes," he said. "You don't have to explain yourself. Nina already told me inside. And…I'm proud of you."

Maes looked at me, kind of lost. "You…told him?"

"It's okay," said Uncle Ed, again. "I've thought about it, and while I can't say it doesn't bother me, I don't think any less of you for it. If anything, you deserve respect. I know it wasn't what you wanted, but you were willing to do it for the sake of others, and that must've taken a great deal of strength on your part. I know you. I trust your decisions. There's no need for you to explain yourself to me. I'm sure you know what you're doing and I'm behind you a hundred percent."

Maes blinked. He looked at me. I shrugged. Maes looked back at his dad and managed a smile.

"Thank you, Dad," he said. "I appreciate that. But…I don't think we're talking about the same thing."

Now it was Uncle Ed's turn to look confused. "We're not?"

Maes held his slight smile as he shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I wouldn't expect you to feel disappointment over…" Maes's face fell. His gold eyes set still and dead on his dad. "Yes, of course. She told you I killed people."

Uncle Ed winced like hearing Maes say it was so much worse. But he nodded. "You weren't leading up to that?"

"No," said Maes. "Like hell I'd be the one to tell you that piece of information at a time like this."

Uncle Ed's eyes fell. "Well, I messed that up."

Maes dragged his hand down his face. "It's fine, Dad. It's fine. Forget it, okay?"

I sucked my lip. Maes was getting thrown off in the bad way. I'd seen it for years. Uncle Ed was Maes's weakness in so many ways. Maes could have every wall up, be the backbone and strength of any situation, and all Uncle Ed had to do was walk in the room and say kiddo, and that was it. Maes was a little boy again. Uncle Ed would still be ruffling his hair when he was forty. Fifty. Possibly eighty, depending on whether my in-laws planned on living to be a hundred. And, despite it being touching and perfect, Uncle Ed's little unwarranted speech probably hurt more than it helped in the moment seeing as Maes hadn't been the one to bring it up.

"Nina's pregnant," Maes said. "That's all I was going to say."

I couldn't help but grimace a bit. Could he have sounded less enthusiastic? Maes's hands sank in his pockets and he tilted his gaze down with a tired look in his features. He was so done with this conversation.

Something in me sank. And then I looked at Uncle Ed.

His eyes bugged wider and wider in their sockets as the new announcement sunk in. Slowly, his mouth dropped and the beginning of what might've been words kind of got trapped in his throat so all that came out was this little questioning grunt.

He looked at me. He looked at Maes. He pointed at me and said, "She…?" He pointed at Maes with the other hand and said, "You…?" Then he did this brilliant little Uncle Ed thing where he brought his two pointer fingers together to draw a looped infinity sign in the air. A grin broke across his face and suddenly he had us both in a double hug. "That's awesome!"

I screwed my eyelids shut as Uncle Ed squeezed his arm around me. My stomach was light with that nauseous feeling again. I didn't wriggle away, though. No, this was too important. This was the moment we'd been waiting for.

"It's about time!" Uncle Ed said. Apparently he'd been waiting for it too?

"About time?" Maes said, his voice shaky but in a good way. "Dad, I'm twenty-one."

Uncle Ed hugged tighter. "I was barely that when you were born."

"I was an accident out of marriage," said Maes.

"We were married by the time you made your appearance," Uncle Ed said with a sigh. "It counts."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't exactly call it a standard," said Maes.

Uncle Ed stepped back from us and I felt myself breathe easier. He looked at me with a gentle smile and put his hand on my head. "Congratulations, kiddo. You're going to make one hell of a mom."

I smiled back. "Thanks. I plan on it."

"How far are you?"

"About two weeks."

Uncle Ed blinked. "That's…recent. How long have you known?"

I shrugged. "About two weeks."

"She senses souls, Dad," Maes said with a hand on my back. "She felt the baby spark to life the moment it happened. I know, right? Blew _my_ mind too."

"You felt that?" said Uncle Ed. "That's awesome! Hey, wait. You said two weeks, right?" His eyes became wary. "Have you been getting morning sickness yet? With Winry, it was always around the two-week mark."

I hugged my tummy. "Yeah, you should probably definitely not hug me that tight again unless I give you the go ahead. I could've puked."

"Oh, sorry, kiddo," Uncle Ed said all apologetic. He rubbed my arm. "Hey, are you going to…?" He switched to talking to Maes, "Is she going to be okay out here?"

"She's monitoring the baby's life force as she goes," said Maes stiffly. "And she knows her limits. We'll accommodate if there are any problems."

Uncle Ed's expression seemed less peppy and more just serious. He nodded, eyes softening on Maes. He sighed a breath and smiled. "Damn, I'm so proud of you."

He put an arm out to his son and Maes stepped into the man-hug like second nature. Maes hunched, hiding his face in his father's fleece coat collar. Uncle Ed patted Maes's back in that way that you could kind of tell he'd been doing since Maes was a baby. I watched Maes shudder in his dad's arms. Yep. Maes's greatest weakness.

"You know," Uncle Ed said softly, "for a while there, we didn't think you would live to have kids of your own. Remember that? You decided when you were seven years old. You told me, 'Daddy, I don't think I'll get married and have babies like you and Mommy, because I'll probably die before too long and that wouldn't be fair.' You remember that?"

Maes nodded into his dad's shoulder. "I was four, actually. Just didn't tell you until I was seven. You needed time."

I watched Uncle Ed's arms tighten around Maes. Four years old. He'd been four and he'd already decided his life was over. Damn it! Hormonal pregnant-lady tears choking me up!

"And then," said Uncle Ed, "I was going to die too. Even if you got better…"

"You wouldn't see it," Maes finished quietly. "You weren't going to see any of this, but somehow it worked out. I don't understand. How can everything be so horrible and then just turn out okay? It can't, can it? Because life just hates us. I'm a goddamn general, Dad! For the military! I hate the military!" I watched Maes cling his dad's coat. "I took that damn promotion because my rank was getting in the way of the investigation. It was simple. Just fighting for my wife's peace of mind. Now I'm a general. I kill people with my hands and cremate our dead without a funeral and we couldn't go two hours before little George Fuery loses part of his foot to frostbite! Yeah, you get to see me have kids, Dad, but there's a lot of shit going on right now that I really wish you weren't around to…to see me screw up…" A break in Maes's voice stopped him from going on. I heard him sniffle. Daddy. Biggest weakness. "I'm so sorry, Dad."

"Ah," said Uncle Ed. "So that's it. Here I was about to chew myself out for brainwashing you into thinking you were some kind of murderer, but that's not the problem, huh?"

Um. Huh?

Uncle Ed smiled a little. "You're on responsibility overload. Eh, kiddo?"

There was a pause. Maes nodded.

"This is the first time," said Uncle Ed, "that you've been responsible for this many people at once. A lot of them you don't know very well."

"I'm not," Maes sniffed, "so wild about crowds, Dad. Much less being in charge of them, you know?"

Uncle Ed nodded. "You have to protect their lives and it's up to you whether to give the orders to take enemy lives. What happens to them and what they do is on your shoulders along with your own decisions."

Every person they killed would be someone Maes killed.

Every one of us who was injured was injured because he couldn't protect us.

Every nightmare was his nightmare. Every hell was his hell.

I understood what Uncle Ed was saying. He was saying Maes had bigger things to worry about than the guilt of killing five men, giving a bad funeral, and losing a few of George's toes. And Maes was saying he was already ashamed of what his father would see him do in the time to come.

"I've already decided what I'm going to do," said Maes. "I just…don't want to do it."

Uncle Ed drew away and Maes wiped his eyes with his sleeve. It was scary how quickly Maes could compose himself after a breakdown. When he looked up again, his features were completely unaffected.

"Nina and I talked," said Maes. "I've decided to take some of her advice. The main reason I took this conversation to a private location was because I wanted to feel free to speak on informal terms with you one last time before we press on. From here on, I'm not your son. I'm not Nina's hubby. I'm not big bro or kiddo. I'm General Elric and that's all it's going to be until we reach Briggs or the next best thing. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's distancing myself from situations, and that's made me strong and it's helped give me a clear head when most other people are bending under the pressure. I'm done warring over how I'm supposed to play team captain without getting too close. I'm the coach this time around."

Uncle Ed seemed a little confused. "Coach?"

"I'll fill you in later," I said. I turned to Maes. "Sir, if that's all, I think it's time for me to inspect souls."

Maes nodded. "Major Elric, go on and join the line." Maes met Uncle Ed's questioning gaze with a slight arch in his brow. "Soul's Circuit and I have something to discuss."

Uncle Ed's eyes filled with understanding and he left quickly. Maes didn't waste a moment. He took my hands in his and stood toe to toe with me so his breath was warm on my face when I met his gaze.

"For the record," he said with a glance over his shoulder, "no matter how many times I have to call you_ Mustang_, I'm thinking _Elric_."

"Baby, I know."

I swung my arms around his neck and yanked him down for a kiss. When we came up for air, he was looking way surprised and breathless.

"That was," he said, "…enthusiastic."

"_That_ is going to be lasting us until this thing is over."

Maes smiled. The backs of his gloved fingers traced down my face tenderly and I began to feel a deep sense of foreboding. He wouldn't be smiling friendly while playing General. I'd miss his smile. It was my favorite.

I took his hand as it touched my face and I kissed his bloodstained fingers. "I pretty much love your guts, General Elric."

"I love your guts too, Major Mustang," he said thinly.

For a moment, he was hunched, kissing my flat tummy. I hardly knew what to do about that, but before I could think too hard, he was straightening. His weak smile faded fast. "God, I love your guts," he said. "Keep them healthy."

I stepped back and saluted. "With pleasure, sir."

"Go to the front of the line," he said. "I'll be right behind you."

Was he going to cry again or something?

"Yes, sir," I said. I love you, sir, I thought.

I got over to the line and eyes were on me. People had been murmuring, but my approaching got them all quiet. Uncle Ed was whispering to Uncle Al and Grandma with a slight smirk on his mouth. Phil was just staring pretty tense like he didn't like that I'd gone off without him.

As if it were possible, people seemed worse than they had been before we'd taken our break. It was like the shock of the situation had thawed in that fort and now they were feeling the cold for the first time. They felt their wounds and their fears. I could see it in their wide, gawking eyes. Sophie had only just woken and she was already teary and pouty, huddled in her Grandma's cuddly embrace.

My research team had successfully gotten George up, but not exactly on his feet. Olga was carrying him, which I knew worked for now and couldn't exactly be avoided, but keeping his circulation up was kind of his only hope for not getting frostbitten again. How the heck would we get him walking before his body heat gave out on him when he was so flipping exhausted and in pain? The worry on my team's faces told me they were wondering the same thing.

Knoxy was standing super close to his dad giving glances that said he was probably worried about the geezer, and who could judge? Knox had made it this far, but we had a long way to go and he was so dang old. So was Johnson. I wasn't sure that lovely woman had even woken up yet since the wreck. If she had, she was out again now, lying so still on a makeshift stretcher between Stewart and Law, Lacey Wright beside her, holding her hand. Bale had Collette Lovett clinging to his arm, her eyes like a feral animal's. Emmett and Kelly hung onto each other like they'd be separated at any moment, which was sort of true in a war zone. Even the guys from Briggs looked a little shaken.

Scar was just frowning like usual and that was no surprise.

"Everything okay?" I asked the line as they continued to stare.

Selim spoke up, stepping forward kind of awkward and nervous. "You…" he said. He cleared his throat and I swore I caught a blush in the low light. "Major Mustang, you…are pregnant?"

I blinked. I looked out at the line. I shrugged. "Uh, yeah. Surprise."

Selim gulped. Ha! Like the very idea of his childhood buddy being preggers was freaky.

"You can't be serious," said Lovett with a frown.

"That was rhetorical, right?" I said.

"Perfect," grumbled Lacey, toying with her green highlights like a nervous habit.

"Wait," said Law. "You mean, it's actually true?"

"Told you so," said Emmett.

"Soldiers are allowed to do that?" said Stewart like a dunce.

Lovett laughed bitterly. "Hard to enforce a law against State Alchemists getting themselves knocked up. Lucky us."

"It'll be alright," said Knoxy. "I'm sure our other State Alchemists are more than capable of making up the difference. Why don't we all just try to remain calm?"

"Shut your damn mouths!" said Sophie. She pushed out of Grandma's arms with eyes like murder. "You idiots don't know what you're talking about! How did being pregnant turn into some kind of handicap? You all should learn to mind your own business!"

Lovett raised an eyebrow. "Says the girl who let it slip in the first place?"

Sophie froze.

"What was that?" said Lovett all singsong. "_Put that cigarette out right this minute, Havoc! Nina can't be around smoke while she's pregnant!"_ Lovett shook her head. "If Major Mustang can't handle a little secondhand smoke, you really expect me to put my life in her hands? Dream on, little girl. As far as I'm concerned, we're down a State Alchemist."

Selim looked at me with questioning eyes, the eyes that meant he was waiting for me to say something. But I'd caught Frank's frown and I wanted to hear what he had to say before I stepped in. Sophie sniffled and glanced at me with deep apologies in her wet eyes, so I gave her a quick smile.

Frank glared. "That is enough!" he said. "All of you. Your orders were to form a line and wait for further instruction, not form a line and speculate."

"Our orders were given by a twenty-one year old kid," Lovett said. "Look at us! We're in a single-file line like a bunch of kindergarteners! He's a good alchemist, but Elric doesn't know what he's doing leading men out here! I was willing to go through the motions until we figured something out that didn't involve leaving him in charge, but now his wife's pregnant and we're not supposed to be worried? It's getting ridiculous!"

"Watch your place, Lieutenant," said Frank coldly.

"Oh, you going to pull ranks on me?" said Lovett.

I heard the Drachman guy snicker, "Be more likely to pull his gun on her."

But I saw the looks on people's faces. Plenty of them. More than I liked to admit were looking like they were with Lovett, even if they weren't being as loud about it. Maes Effect was dead and it was about to come back as General Elric Effect. I smirked. And these duds wouldn't know what hit them.

Selim put his hand on my arm. I met his dark eyes. He smiled, letting out a little laugh. "Hey, congratulations, loser. You're going to be a great mom."

Dang. Hormonal tears. "Thanks, pansy."

I tuned back into junk in time to catch Lovett saying, "The bastard wouldn't even slow down until Fuery needed his feet sawed off!"

"Lovett!" Bale said in a sharp whisper.

Then Maes stepped over and Lovett and pretty much everyone fell quiet and anxious. Maes came to stand with me toward the front of the line. He didn't meet eyes with anyone. More just stared dead ahead, stared through whoever he looked at. His expression held little emotion. Just hard and cool like stone. He was silent for a while, his mouth a tight line. Uncle Ed watched with this look on his face resembling melancholy pride.

"Major Mustang," Maes said. "Begin. Be fast."

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Straighten this line," Maes called out sharply. "I said single file! You've had more than enough time to figure out what that means!"

The tone of his voice had everyone, even Lovett, jumping to action. The line was straight in seconds. I started at the front with Phil.

"What are you…?" Phil began.

I slipped off my glove and reached to place my fingers on his face. I took my fingers away and said to Maes, "No danger."

We moved on to the next one in line.

As we went and I checked life forces, Maes stared with vibrating pupils and spoke to our pathetic troop.

"Soul's Circuit Alchemist Nina Mustang is performing an analysis of each of your life forces," he said. "Once she is through, we will be moving on in our previous formation. Those who can walk will walk. Those who can barely walk will walk. Those who cannot walk will be heavily monitored. Braddock, as soon as Mustang has cleared you, demonstrate your team's latest matrix to Major Bale, Major Elric, and our alchemic consultants. We will be eating frequently."

To keep strong and keep warm. He was saying we weren't allowed to eat rations straight out of their wrappers. We could run out of food in one meal if our alchemists didn't transmute it to make it stretch.

Maes stepped back, peeled off from my analyzing and regarded us with narrowed eyes. He folded his arms, gloves jingling. "As for our formation, I will take the lead with Fullmetal and Izumi Curtis." Because they knew about weapons and junk and he needed to master that fast. "Lieutenant Colonel Charlie's team will head up the rear." Because Maes could trust us to watch his back. "Briggs men Karley and Bick will take the sides." Because they're cutthroat and won't hesitate to protect their posts. "Falman, stay within formation with our Drachman escorts at all times." Because Maes couldn't afford to trust those conniving bastards not to turn on us in a pinch. "Doctors, stay on the inside to monitor the injured." Because we couldn't afford to risk a doctor getting dead. "Those who can hold a gun, keep it at your disposal and be prepared to use it. Though our exact location is hardly known to _us_, our enemies seem to have a good grip on our whereabouts and our circumstances make us easy to track. We won't be making it out of this without crossing their paths again. That is a promise."

And Maes didn't make promises lightly.

"Hold on!" said Lacey all nervous. "What do you mean we'll be crossing their paths again? I thought we were marching to avoid that!"

"Wait," said Stewart. "So, in other words, we're walking into an ambush?"

Captain Law laughed. "I think I'd rather sit on my ass and wait for them to come to me."

"Show some respect, Captain," Phil said.

"I don't…" said Focker mid-panic, "I don't think I can shoot straight in the dark."

"You've got one eye, you stupid jackass," said Knox. "No one's putting a gun in your hands as long as I'm alive."

"Interesting word choice, old man," Bale snorted. Okay, maybe it was a little funny. Knoxy Junior didn't seem to think so, though.

"What are you trying to imply, Major?" said Knoxy with a glare.

"It," said Bale, "was an 'old guy' joke."

Lovett shoved Bale in the arm. "What the hell time is it to be joking?"

"Hey, let's take a breath," Uncle Al piped up as the crowd began to stir. I'd watched him staying out of it, but now Uncle Ed was looking angry and that was usually when Uncle Al interfered.

"Who the hell are you?" said Law, eyeing Uncle Al like it was the first time. "Investigation consultant, right? Why don't you leave this to the soldiers, okay?"

Uncle Al smiled gently. "I'd rather leave it up to the General, if it's all the same to you, Captain."

Maes stood there, planted firm and unwavering as he watched his sad little troop bicker and freak and pretty much disregard him to hell. Because he knew what most of them didn't yet. As up in the air as things seemed to them now, very soon, they'd be clinging to him for dear life. And he'd be ready.

"General Elric!" Lovett said. "You just promised us an attack? Why didn't we hear about this sooner? You just let us sleep while you knew there were people out there looking for us?"

Maes blinked slowly, kind of bored-looking. "Would you have slept if you'd known?"

"Of course not!" said Lovett. "God, is that why you were pushing us so hard? You could've told us! We would've kept walking!"

Not too surprisingly, she got some agreeing nods and murmurs through the crowd, those other unhappy campers she'd been representing.

Maes looked at her. "And what purpose would that have served?" He looked out at all of us, but not really at any of us in particular. "I warned you all at the beginning of this march that we would more than likely be pursued. Now that that fact has been confirmed, you act surprised. Nothing has changed about our situation. You understand that, right? We were never safe. We are not marching to escape conflict. We are marching toward a goal. It's not a question of whether we meet enemies along the way. It's a matter of when. We take breaks when we need them and we needed one when we took it. Don't mistake me. I was not bullied into halting earlier. I had injured men in need of tending and the area was clear." His glare flashed to Lovett. "Your arguments all center on the common flawed idea that your opinions mean half a shit to me."

Maes Effect. Officially non-existent.

Selim cleared his throat. "General Elric, sir?"

Maes looked at him. "Speak, Bradley."

"I just…" Selim looked so freaking nervous, like talking to a higher-up. This from the guy who'd given Maes a hard time on double dates. "Sir, you speak of future attacks. But, as I understand it, the men who attacked our train were wiped out. At present, I'm not worried about whether we'll be facing enemies so much as what form this so-called enemy will be taking. You seem to have some level of knowledge over our current situation. Do you know the possible numbers we'll be facing? Artillery? Time frames and terrain in which we can expect attacks?"

Maes was quiet for a moment and I realized with a bit of pride that the others were being quiet too. Apparently Selim had asked some good questions.

"I do not know their numbers," said Maes, finally. "My transmutation only detects so much. I can tell you that they are scattered. They underestimated us once. They know enough now to surround us from different angles. The closest are coming from the east about three miles from where we stand."

Panic fell over the crowd at the mention of distance, which was probably exactly why Maes had avoided mentioning it sooner.

"Wait just a second," said Lacey. "He said he could only detect so much, right? So, how do we know it's an enemy?"

"Right, it could be nothing!" said Stewart.

"Maybe it's a rescue party!" said Focker.

"Yeah," said Law. "How do we know we're not running from a rescue team from Briggs?"

Bick, mister baby-face, bearded, and usually silent, laughed dryly. "You really think General Armstrong would waste her resources on you weaklings? You're not worth the trouble."

"Shut your mouth, Briggs-flunky!" said Lovett.

Maes turned to me and said, "I leave organizing the formation in your hands. We'll march as soon as I've seen to Fuery and Johnson."

I nodded and gave him a salute. He'd known just by watching me analyze that Fuery and Johnson were the ones with strained life forces. Of course, who needed to check life forces to know those two were doing poorly?

"Hey!" said Lovett. "Hey, just a second! What about Mustang?"

Maes paused on his way to Fuery at the back of the line. "What about her?"

"She's pregnant," said Lovett like it was an evil thing. "Tell me you've taken her out of this. Because you're acting like you haven't."

Oddly enough, there were plenty in the crowd, even friends, who seemed to feel the same about me as Lovett in this case. Preggers Nina was not compatible with the field, apparently.

Maes frowned. "Let's get one thing straight." He locked eyes with Lovett. "In my troop of thirty, there is only one person more effective in a fight than me. That person is the Soul's Circuit Alchemist. You would do well not to forget that."

Okay, that made me mad. And nauseous. His word choice was very effective. It had Lovett shutting up and just about everyone else too. But, jeez, he'd practically exaggerated himself into a lie! I was not effective in a fight. I had never even been in a fight! I'd killed people in states of madness. I'd been at the wrong end of beatings. I had zilch experience with combat. I had extensive self-defense training due to being famous and some gorgeous alchemy due to being a freak. That was it. And now he had everyone looking at me like I was some amazing fighter who'd show my stuff as soon as we got ourselves an attacker. Oh, I'd be sick.

"Major Mustang," said Phil. "Are you alright?"

I shivered. The wind was picking up. "I'm fine," I said. I nodded to myself. "We're all going to be fine."

* * *

**So, to make up for this chapter taking so long, I'll be posting chapter 17 this coming Saturday! Yay! Surprise! And another surprise: The lovely bentez on dA has done some gorgeous 'Flame Legacy' fanart recently and you'll find those links on my FF profile. Take a look. She draws Nina and Maes is the series style and it looks freaking awesome! *touched***

REPLIES!

KTrevo: *cries* I'm trying to keep them alive! They're just such weaklings!

Madje Knotts: No, that totally makes sense. Pretty much what happened, actually ;)

Evarria: Haha, cover the metal with something more George-y. Priceless! And, yes, of course I'll keep you guys posted if I get published :)

justaislinn: Dude, that tornado analogy was incredible!

SilverPedals1402: Haha, consider the Elric moral trip officially curbed. Maes is spoiled by how much his parents love him.

mixmax300: Deep down, Mikey's just really awkward, haha XD Thanks so much! I love my OC's! They've all got a story.

ArtisticFantasy: I look forward to surprising you all! Not even my sister knows the details this time around ;D

Harryswoman: Nina and Maes'll be the kind of parents their kids don't even realize are weird until they meet their friends' parents.

mivpus: Yay, you're caught up! And right on time to witness my really delayed updating schedule :S Haha, I can't wait to unleash some Scar and Selim badass moments. They need those!


	17. Childhood Acquaintances

**A/N: As promised, Chapter 17 on Saturday! Yay!**

* * *

Chapter 17: Childhood Acquaintances

I was supposed to be sorting out our formation for Maes so we could leave the fort behind and get our butts into gear already, but I couldn't help overhearing.

"General?" Fuery said as Maes checked his feet. "Is that…blood?"

Maes glanced at his hands, the bloodstains on his gloves. "Don't worry about it, Sergeant. It's not mine."

"Oh," said George. "Someone you healed?"

"No," said Maes simply.

"No?" said George.

"No," said Maes.

I watched George put the pieces together, that the blood was from an enemy. His face turned a little sad and…maybe just a little impressed. He bit down on his lip as Maes fingered the fresh bandages over his foot. Maes frowned.

"There's no way you're walking on this," Maes said.

I looked away as Maes undid the binding. He was going to heal the amputation sites with alkehestry. I knew he was. What other choice did he have? I'd just seen enough George-pain for one night.

"Okay, fellas," I said. I rolled back my shoulders and yawned. "Here's how we're going to do things. While Braddock's whipping up our nighttime snack, I want you all to get in formation according to my instruction, you got me? Remember your places. You'll be keeping them throughout the march. We'll start with the front and work our way back. Fullmetal and Curtis, you're heading it with the General," because Maes needs to learn weapons fast and you know weapons and you know Maes. "Go stand parallel to the front of the fort. Alphonse Elric, you go up with Fullmetal," because you keep him level headed and he'll fight harder with you there. "Sophie Elric, you'll walk behind Alphonse," out of range of their discussion, "with Stewart and Law to your sides," because I want them separated and you scare the crap out of them, "and Falman behind," because I want you to be close to people I know can protect you if things go wrong.

As I directed people and they went to their positions, I heard Maes working with Georgie at standing up on his newly healed feet. "You'll have to get used to distributing your weight differently," Maes said. "Just keep moving. That's all that matters. It doesn't have to look graceful."

"I f-feel," said George, "a little light-headed, sir."

"That's okay," said Maes. "Just keep moving and lean on Armstrong as needed."

Damn it! Poor baby was saying he couldn't walk and Maes was having to ignore it. George needed to stay on his feet and he was lucky Maes was the one making sure that happened, because most anyone else probably would've caved under those puppy eyes. Maes wouldn't take no as an answer, though. As adorable and pathetic as George was, Maes had been adorable and pathetic too in his time and he'd had to tough it out and do hard things while feeling crappy.

"Drachman diplomat man," I addressed, turning to my crowd. "What's your name?"

The guy looked at me with a bit of surprise, like this was the first he'd been talked to specifically in a while. "Victor Bagrov," he said.

I arched a brow. Bagrov. Hm. That would've been my last name if my biological mother had actually not given me to a lab. My parents had said it was a common last name in Drachma, but I couldn't help but suddenly feel like I was this guy's buddy all the sudden.

"Bagrov," I said, "you take the front of Sergeant Johnson's stretcher and stand to Brigadier General Falman's right. And," I pointed to the train attendant guy standing with Kelly and Emmett, "you?"

"Douglas Mac, ma'am," said the guy. Dorky name.

"Mac, you'll take the back of the stretcher," I said. "Emmett and Kelly to Mac's left. Focker, you go to his right. Knox and Knox, walk alongside Johnson's stretcher, also to the right. Lacey Wright, you stay to Johnson's left." Now I was knitting the center, situating the most critically injured with the doctors and busying those who would not be fighting. "Remaining Drachmans, stand to Bagrov's left." Keeping the Drachmans together, close behind Falman. "Karley to the left. Bick to the right." Fence the Drachmans in with Briggs soldiers for good measure. "Philip Thomas, left. Bale, right." Protect the edges. "Lovett to Bale's left," where you can't whine at Maes or antagonize Sophie. "Bradley to Lovett's left," because you have a talent with high-strung women. "Armstrong and Havoc behind them. Fuery will be between you. Braddock, Charlie, and Scar, you three will take the back with me."

Phil wasn't going to like that I'd put him on the edge instead of assigning him to the back with me. Yeah, he was already looking tense about it, but he could deal. He was too good a soldier to waste on babysitting Miss Nina. He'd be in decent earshot if I needed him.

As people got into their places and Maes took to the front while George awkwardly limped to where I'd assigned him toward the back, Braddock wrapped up demonstrating the new food-growing matrix to the other alchemists and got down to passing out rations. Some primal wish for corn sank heavy in my painfully empty stomach. Dang, was this how Maes felt all the time, or was I just having a tummy ache from puking too much earlier?

It seemed they'd found something with tomatoes in it, because, with bright flashes of alchemy, the alchemists in our troop were doling out big red spheres of goodness to their starving comrades. Oh, what a stupid snack. We were freezing our butts off without anything to eat in hours and Braddock had decided to start us off with tomatoes? Well, Uncle Al looked mega happy with it. At least there was that.

Braddock came to my side and handed me a tomato with an apologetic smile. "Most of what we got is too processed for me to do much with. Had to make due with leftovers from Sergeant Armstrong's sandwich."

"It's okay," I said, turning the ripe beauty in my gloved hand. "This is really well done, Braddock. If you can do this much, working on more complex transmutations with this matrix shouldn't be impossible."

Frank stood at Braddock's side and crunched on his tomato like an apple. He looked at me dully. "What's wrong with tomatoes?"

"Nothing," I said. "You want mine?"

Frank's face altered, kind of peeved. "We were ordered to eat. So eat."

"Not so sure this'll sit with me," I said. Citric acid. Not my friend.

"Do it anyway," Scar said with a scowl. He stood loosely to my side in general proximity to where I'd assigned him, making it very clear he didn't want to be there. He eyed me critically. "This is no time to be picky."

"Forget picky," Frank said. "You can't offer your ration to another officer like trading lunches on a playground. Set an example. Stick to your orders. Eat your own damn food."

"I'll eat my own damn food," I said. "Jeez. You parenting me now?"

"I'm your superior," said Frank. "You need to take this seriously."

My features flattened. Frank was pulling crap about rank because Lovett had challenged his authority in front of everyone. I stuffed half the giant tomato in my mouth and chewed on its gooey insides. I swallowed. I fought a shudder. I forced the rest down with my eyes closed. I'd humor Frankfurter by eating, but I couldn't promise it'd stay down.

"Hey," said Braddock. "You okay, Mustang?"

I nodded. "Swell."

"You know, I hate to come off presumptuous," said Braddock, "but if your appetite's being effected by your condition…"

"Let me worry about my condition," I said. "What am I? A car?"

Braddock smiled and looked forward with his hands in his pockets. "No, ma'am. Not at all. Sorry I said anything."

As we left our campsite, Maes plunged a gloved hand deep through the snow, sending an alchemic current through the ground to swallow our newly vacant fort. We weren't leaving much trace, but something told me that whatever was tracking us didn't need traces as obvious as an abandoned fortress left behind. Maes warned to be ready, to wait for orders, that an attack could come and would come at any moment. That told me one was coming soon, probably within the hour or so, and Maes was trying to avoid panic.

Snow was starting to come down, something the Briggs guys were saying we needed to just get used to. Well, whatever. It was freezing anyway. A little snow in the air only made things marginally worse. What got me were the snow clouds that came with the flurries. The little moonlight we'd been getting earlier was now smothered by the blanket-like clouds pretty much enveloping the freaking night sky. In a few hours, the sun would rise, but until then? We were walking in the complete dark and flashlights were to be rationed. I could practically smell the anxiety coming from everyone, the natural fear that came from walking in emptiness.

"So, Mustang," said Braddock with a gentle, respectful volume. "Tell me. You afraid of the dark?"

I snorted. "That's a funny question."

"Not right now it ain't," he said with a smile in his voice. "Hm. Guess you don't seem too fazed."

"There are worse things than not being able to see what's around," I said.

"Huh, like what?" Braddock said.

I shrugged. "Like being able to see what's around."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mikey Havoc said. I'd put him, George, and Olga right in front of us.

"Wait until the day comes," I said. "All that pure white. That's what I don't like. You can see it all. Darkness? That I can handle."

"I'm guessing you weren't a nightlight baby?" said Frank.

"Olga certainly was," said Olga. "Until she was advanced in adolescent years."

"You don't like the dark, Armstrong?" said George, his voice still so strained.

Olga's laugh was gentle and motherly. Pretty gorgeously feminine without her height and muscles visible to distract. "No, Olga simply loved her nightlight."

"Oh, I see," George said with a chuckle.

"How about you, Georgie?" I said. "You scared of the dark?"

"No, not really, ma'am," said George. "Clowns are kind of creepy, though."

There was a shudder in Mikey's reply. "Clowns? No one asked about clowns."

I laughed. I wouldn't tell on him, but I knew for a fact from talking to his mom that Mikey had slept with a teddy right through high school after a bad circus experience.

"No, something's up with clowns," Braddock carried on. "I'll give you that, Fuery. Doubt we'll be seeing any of those out here."

"Doubt we'll be _seeing_ much of anything until the sun comes up," Frank mumbled.

"Yeah, well," Braddock said. "There are worse things."

"Like what?" Scar said quietly, almost to himself. "We're walking in the dark waiting to be fired upon by an enemy we can't see."

Things around us suddenly turned quiet. I reached out my arm and felt around to punch Scar in the shoulder. He grunted and I knew I'd made good contact.

"Quit pouting, loser," I said, tucking my fists back in my pockets. "You think the General relies on sight to sense the enemy?" Not to mention you can't see that great in the light either, geezer.

I heard Lovett ahead of us talking. "No, I'm not scared of the dark. What are we? Three?" Apparently the conversation had spread.

"You don't need to be young to be afraid," Selim laughed. "I'm twenty-six years old and I still sleep with the door cracked."

"Ha," said Mikey. "Yeah, right. You love the dark, Bradley. I remember when we were kids."

Selim laughed. "Okay, I like the shade, but pure darkness? There's something powerless about it."

"Wait, Havoc," Braddock said. "You have history with Bradley?"

"Sure," said Mikey. "Well, kind of. Our parents."

"Should've guessed," said Braddock.

"But Michael sat at the kiddie table back then," Selim said. "Right, Mikey?"

Mikey sighed. "Please don't call me that."

Selim just laughed. He'd always been a bit of a mystery to the younger kids at Dad's official get-togethers. A gangly teen with dark bangs grown long over his forehead like some kind of angst-stricken rock star; always showed up in black and sat in the shady corner until the party was over and it was time to go home. He followed his mom like a lost puppy. The only time he smiled, really smiled, was for her. Kind of a freak. Probably why he'd been my only friend at those stupid parties.

"So, Fuery," Braddock was keeping George in the conversation and I kind of realized he was doing it to monitor little guy. "You're, what, seventeen?"

"Yes, sir," George said through shivers.

"You know folks around the military through parents too, right?" Braddock said. "Out of curiosity, did Mustang ever babysit you or something? You two seem kind of close, is all. Last I checked, you ain't been a soldier all that long."

"Babysit?" I said. "Hell no. As if anyone would trust me with their kid."

That seemed to crack up some people a little bit.

"Says the pregnant woman?" Selim laughed.

"Exactly," I thought I heard Lovett whisper.

"You seem plenty capable to me," Braddock said. Sweetie.

I shrugged. "Yeah, but you don't know me the way Mr. Furry does. He saw me when I was a kid. And, I mean, he likes me. He used to keep me company when my parents would run late from work and he's so nice. But he wouldn't have left me alone with his kids. He just wouldn't have."

"Oh," said Braddock. Maybe sorry for asking. Maybe wondering what was wrong with me.

George's little chuckle was so weak I barely caught it. Then he spoke. "Well, of course not. My older sister always supervised when my parents were out, so they never needed a hired babysitter. Gosh, Major Mustang. You make yourself sound dangerous or something." George sighed. "The truth is, Major Braddock, the reason Major Mustang and I act close isn't because we have history. It's because the Major is an easy person to get along with. She treats everyone like a friend if given the chance. I'm nothing special that way. Right, Major Mustang?"

My heart just about melted. "Honey, how'd you get so sweet?"

George chuckled again.

"She treats you like a child," Scar said. The tone in his voice was mega harsh, like suddenly the aloof Ishvalan jerk was taking things way serious. "It's disgraceful."

But George didn't miss a beat. "Not at all, sir. Major Mustang treats all people about the same, I think you'll find. Whether she sees them as children or as adults has very little to do with it."

"Major Mustang," I said, "is standing right next to you, Scar. Don't piss her off or she'll transmute your face to your butt. It's going to happen."

I got some big laughs for that, especially from Selim. He'd heard me threaten before. I thought I even caught Frank muffling a snort. I didn't hear Scar laugh, though. He was just icy quiet. Figured he'd be the one guy not to appreciate a good alchemic-ass joke.

Scar spoke low. "I find your attitude toward the situation at hand to be unnerving. You are charged with guarding the back of our formation and you dedicate your time to frivolous small talk. You face an enemy known to be deadly and still you refuse to treat your comrades as soldiers. You're carrying a child and you refuse to eat upon being given food. Clearly the gravity of the situation hasn't sunken in with you yet."

"Chill, man," I said. "Like, seriously? I'm just talking to keep warm."

"Major Mustang did not eat?" said Olga with worry.

"You've got to eat, Nina," Selim said with really real worry.

"I ate," I said. "Jeez. I only thought about skipping because the morning sickness was getting to me, but it's staying down okay so far. No worries. I'll aim toward Scar if I get the urge."

"You were feeling ill?" Frank said softly, just to me. "You could've said."

"I'm fine," I said. "Just keep walking, Lt. Colonel."

In the pit of me, I was kind of getting this need to thump Scar on the forehead, right where 'x' marked the spot. Problem was, I probably couldn't reach if I tried.

"Major Mustang," said Olga. She cleared her throat. "Olga has a question for you to answer."

"Oh, sounds interesting," I said. I waited a moment. She didn't speak. "Um, you want to ask it, sweetie?"

She articulated the next words like a pledge. "Olga was wondering how Major Mustang and the General hooked up."

Frank coughed.

I laughed.

"Isn't that the big question," Selim sighed.

"Give me a break," Lovett grumbled.

"Sergeant Armstrong," I said. "Are you asking me for a love-story?"

"I wouldn't classify that as appropriate conversation," Frank said.

"Me neither," said Mikey.

"Macho-clinging pansies," I said.

"Officers Charlie and Havoc have a problem with romance?" Olga said, a little sharp.

Braddock clicked his tongue at them. "No wonder you're both single."

"That's a choice," said Mikey.

"It's no one's business," said Frank. "We're on a battlefield. We have no business delving into one another's personal affairs. Especially the General's."

"Yeah, but, sir," I said. "You're not single."

There was a pause.

"Excuse me?" said Frank.

"Just wanted to address," I said, "that you totally had a girl seeing you off at the station."

Another pause.

"She wasn't anyone of consequence," said Frank.

"She was crying pretty bad," I said.

"Wait, it's true?" said Mikey. Like he was surprised Frank even had an interest in women.

"Yeah, I saw her too," said George, maybe worried. "She seemed pretty upset."

Braddock chuckled. "Lt. Colonel Charlie a heartbreaker? Guess I could've seen that coming."

"I'm not a heartbreaker," Frank said, annoyance surfacing in his usually cool tone. Oh, man. It was kind of cute. "When I say she was no one, I'm not saying it lightly. My family's always trying to set me up with someone. That woman you saw at the station, Mustang, was just their most recent attempt. She was only crying because it's what she thought she was supposed to do."

Oh.

"Yes, sir," said Braddock apologetically. "Didn't mean any offense."

I couldn't see Frank's face, but I could hear it in his voice and, even more, in his words. With how much he seemed to value intentionality and respect in the workplace, I imagined finding a girlfriend who could deal with his priorities might be hard. He wasn't embarrassed of the term 'heartbreaker.' He was put off by the superficiality of the idea. What a total Frank.

"Major Mustang?" said George.

"Yeah, Georgie?"

"How _did_ you and the Wielding Alchemist get together?" he said. "I mean, I wouldn't mind hearing a sappy love-story right about now."

Poor baby. He sounded so tired. Kind of in pain. But he had to keep walking and he just wanted something to pass the time that didn't involve officers arguing.

"She won't tell you," said Selim.

"What?" I said. "Who says?"

Selim laughed. "Come on, Major. You never talk about how you two really met. Not even at the wedding. Now, Fuery, if you want a real love story, I can talk about my Elysia for hours."

I heard some protesting groans from around.

"Or not," said Selim. "Wow, tough crowd."

"Mm," said Olga. "Olga enjoyed Lieutenant Bradley's tales of Elysia Hughes thoroughly the first four times. But now is just overkill."

"Thanks," said Selim.

"You know," I said, "just because I'm a little vague on details doesn't make my story boring, Bradley."

"Didn't say it was boring," said Selim. "Just non-existent."

"I'm pregnant!" I said. "Something is apparently very existent!"

"Just had to get her started, didn't you?" grumbled Mikey.

"I can be romantic," I said. "We're very romantic people! Okay, that's a lie. We're not very romantic at all. He used to…" I toyed with my hair and giggled, thinking back to that evening we left Central for the first time together when Maes told me that my abuse-scars made my legs look like paintings, "say the stupidest junk to me." I frowned, letting go of my hair. Selim was right, as usual. I wouldn't talk about it. Maes and I didn't have a cute love story like Selim and Elysia. We had a horror story with some twists. "Lt. Colonel Charlie is right," I said. "Talking about the General's personal life right now is inappropriate conversation. However, Fuery, I would be happy to tell you all about the months upon months Second Lieutenant Bradley spent trying to get me to go out with him prior to us meeting our eventual spouses."

"Nina," Selim practically whined.

"You guys went out?" said George.

"Olga did not know this," said Olga.

"No kidding?" said Mikey kind of awed.

"Well, I'm interested," said Lovett. Couldn't tell if she meant it.

"We never went out," said Selim. "Quit being weird."

"But you _asked_ her out?" said Mikey. "Nina Mustang? Seriously, man? She's the Fuhrer's daughter!"

"So?" said Selim. "I'm a Fuhrer's son. Besides, I wasn't thinking about status. I was thinking Nina was the only person I'd ever be able to talk to besides my mother so I may as well date her. That's what you do when your life's going nowhere fast. You ask your best friend out." Selim laughed in the awkward silence that followed, his rumbling, contagious laugh. "Of course, Nina wasn't having any of that mess. Right?"

"Yeah," I said. "I turned your ass down, sucker!"

"Why didn't I know about this?" Mikey said kind of to himself.

"I think we were probably still sitting at the kiddie table," George chuckled. "Good story, though."

"Damn," said Braddock. "You military folks. You ain't what people expect, are you?"

Olga laughed. "Major Braddock is one such military folk also now, is he not?"

"Suppose he is," said Braddock with a contented sigh.

"Sergeant Fuery," Frank said. "How are you fairing? I don't hear your teeth chattering too badly. That's a good sign."

"Yes, sir," said George. "I'm okay. The pace the General is keeping is very manageable."

"What about your feet?" said Mikey. "They okay?"

"Oh, yeah," said George. "Just weird to walk on. That's all. The General was able to heal most of the pain away, so I forget some of the toes are gone. It's disorienting when my steps falter and they're not there."

"That's kind of weird," said Mikey. "But, if it doesn't hurt…"

"Then I'm not complaining," said George.

"He _healed_ the pain away?" I said, trying not to sound too skeptical. "You sure you're not just numb from the cold?"

"Oh, no," said George. "Not at all, ma'am. See, Major Bale lent me these little heating-pad things his mom sent him off with. You put them in your pockets and your boots and they keep your hands and feet from getting cold, so I'm not numb in the slightest. In fact, if I were being honest, I _am_ still a little sore, but not enough to complain about. I can walk just fine."

"Bale lent you hot packs?" I said. "As in, Howard Bale?"

"Yes, ma'am," said George.

"_Major_ Howard Bale?" I said. The jerk-wad from work who picked on George like a school bully singling out the weakling of the pack?

"Is that okay?" said George. "He said I needed them more than he did."

"Uh huh," I said a little stunned. What was with this Bale guy? He was usually such an easy guy to dislike. But since the crash, he'd been all respectful to Maes and apparently kind to George? He'd always been so competitive with our team. The worst of anyone.

But now we were kind of on the same team, weren't we?

And Collette Lovett had always seemed pretty nice before she saw her friend Melanie die a few hours ago.

"Major Mustang," said Braddock. "Out of curiosity, you got something against alkehestry?"

"Um," I said. And I had to pause and think a minute on whether I wanted to lie or not and if so, how much? "Well, how do you mean?"

"Just something I picked up on," said Braddock, voice a little cautious. "When we talk about your alchemy, you always make a point to say it ain't alkehestry you use. Then other folks use it and you seem a little averted. I mean, the only reason Fuery got healed was because the General overrode your orders to let him heal on his own. Seems a little drastic, if that don't sound ignorant."

"Everything sounds ignorant when you say it with that grammar," Lovett said quietly, just not too quietly.

I would've gotten on Lovett's case for being a bitch, but I was too busy sucking my lip and feeling dumb. Braddock had his way of doing that, bringing stuff up all gentle so when the words hit you, you never saw it coming.

"_You_ gave the order not to heal me, Major Mustang?" said George. "I thought the General was just busy keeping watch or something."

"You saw what happened at the crash site," Mikey said. "General Elric's not the only qualified healer here."

"Guess not," said George.

"Major Mustang warned that using alkehestry could cause an abnormal healing," said Olga. "And problems in future, if Olga recalls correctly."

George's voice turned a little nervous. "Wait, really? General Elric didn't even mention…"

"It's no big deal, George," I said. I touched my achy back self-consciously. "I…I wouldn't worry about it. Sorry. You were in pain for nothing after they amputated. Uncle Al…I mean, Alphonse Elric probably could've healed you right away and you'd have been fine and stuff. I just…" My fists balled as I thought about the scars on my hands where my father had healed my fingers, the scars that he'd healed and had somehow become flammable when they rubbed together. "To answer your question, Braddock, yes, I do have some things against alkehestry. But they're my fears, not yours. Sorry, George. I shouldn't have ordered against healing you. I just wanted to make sure your body had the chance to do it on its own before we rushed into synthetic methods."

"Synthetic methods, ma'am?" said George.

"Ah, interesting," said Braddock. "So, that's it. You don't think alkehestry really heals, Major?"

"You do?" I said.

"I don't know the first thing about it," said Braddock. "I ain't some kind of expert. That's why I asked."

"Okay, well, I ain't some kind of expert either, you know?" I said. "I just like trusting what works, and alkehestry has its weak points. Like anything. It's like…you know when you break a bone? You let it heal naturally and chances are it'll heal back even stronger than it was before. You heal it with alkehestry though; it's like using glue. Sure, it's in one piece again, but it's got a weak point that won't get a second chance to get stronger. And it doesn't seem so bad until something happens to test it and then you realize you're not strong enough anymore and it sucks. I…"

"I think I understand," said George warmly. "It's fine, Major Mustang. I appreciate your looking out for me."

"You got nothing to worry about, George," I said. "The General knows the risks behind alkehestry the same as I do. He wouldn't have healed you if it wasn't the best course. Damn, we've been using alkehestry all night without even flinching."

"I didn't even know it was an issue," said Frank.

"It's not," I said.

"You just said it was," said Frank. "It strikes a fair point. In theory, regenerating damaged tissue should be as simple as Equivalent Exchange, but the human body is full of variables. If you think about it, every one of us who were healed with alkehestry back at the crash site are now carrying weak points we don't even know to be careful of without the pain or effort of recovery to remind us. It makes me glad my head injury was treated with regular medicine. It's throbbing to hell, but at least I know it's there."

I swallowed hard. I wondered if Maes and Uncle Ed could hear us all the way up front. Doubtful. Sophie would've said something by now if we were in that kind of earshot over the wind. But if they could, it would've had to hurt. If anyone knew the danger of weak points alkehestry could leave on a healed wound, it was them. Uncle Ed had used his own life force to heal himself once and the old wound had still proven a weak spot over a decade later. Frank didn't know how right he was. The only thing that was known to be foolproof was a Nina-healing and those were too harsh to even attempt without the extra souls in my life force to curb and focus my circuit. What a load of bull.

Oh, God, I felt sick.

Up front, Grandma Izumi's snapping tone was unmistakable, and it rose above the weather. "You can't be serious! You've never held a sword in your life and now you think you can master it in one night? You looking to get killed?"

"Calm yourself, Curtis," Maes's voice returned, less angry but terrifyingly firm. "I don't remember saying we had a full night to do this. They'll be here in ten minutes. Now tell me what I need to know!"

My stomach turned as I felt a shiver run up and down my sore spine. I covered my mouth sloppily as murmurs of panic began to rise all around me in the pitch darkness. That tomato was trying to come back to haunt me, just like I knew it would.

* * *

**What's that? A blatant cliffy? Yeah, well, it had to be done :)**

**Hope you enjoyed that stint of character development with the gang. And my shameless 'Pride' references in Selim's dialogue, haha! I'm posting doodles on dA for this chapter featuring childhood pics of the some of the team, and Olga's is the cutest thing ever! Okay, I think they're all cute...**

**PS- Yeah, I know what Ed did healing himself in Baschool wasn't really alkehestry; it was using himself as a Philosopher's Stone. Nina just lumps everything together because, in case you haven't noticed, she has some prejudices against any alchemy that's not hers. She's kind of a snob that way.**

REPLIES!

mivpus: I know, right? I saw 'Mass Effect' listed on Funimation the first time and I did this double-take, like, "They made a movie about the MAES EFFECT?!"

Madje Knotts: Yeah, I see Nina being pretty deadly. She, like, 'accidentally' burned folks alive when she was a toddler, so...

Harryswoman: Strict Maes is scary Maes. *How he gets when Ed won't help Winry with the dishes after dinner*

SilverPedals1402: I feel like the General Effect was always there, just waiting for an excuse to come out. But, yeah, Maes Effect is definitely more Maesy :3

mixmax300: Poor Lovett. I make characters hate-able and then I start feeling bad for them, haha. Anyway, I think they're all going to see some good reasons to trust Maes very soon, lol!

KTrevo: Things Flame Legacy (2) speeches taught us: Love is a verb. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. George Fuery makes everything cute.

**Now I gotta go work on updating 'Human Shield' for all the poor folks I left hanging on THAT weeks and weeks ago :S Sorry about that, guys. Life happens.**


	18. Apparently, We're Soldiers

**A/N: Hey, guys! Check out my profile after this chapter for NEWS on my life, my fics, and what the heck's going on with these slow updates. Thanks for your patience :)**

**ps- Seriously, check it out. I got some news on the status of 'Accident Baby' O.o**

* * *

Chapter 18: Apparently, We're Soldiers

In my head, Maes's words from the station pulsed.

_All this boils down to is, when you do as I say, less people get dead._

At the time, he'd been talking about all the little kids in the labs depending on us, but with the recent announcement that the enemy would be on top of us in ten minutes, his little speech at the station was stretching for me. Really stretching. Melting with his words from the wreck site.

_We'll keep going until the sun's up if we have to, but we will leave this place with our lives! _

His voice in my head mounted louder than the terrified chatter of my comrades scrambling around me.

_Twenty-four men and women didn't lose their lives today so we could die with them!_

Do as he says and less of us will get dead.

So why isn't he saying anything?

I couldn't see Maes with the sky pitch black with night. No way to know what he was up to at the front without being able to detect his voice amidst the chaos. Suddenly I began to grasp the powerlessness of being in the dark and being afraid didn't seem as childish as we'd joked earlier. Deep down, I knew Maes had this planned, but I could understand all the people freaking out because they didn't know what I did. Part of me wanted to freak out anyway.

"I don't want to do this again!" Sophie screamed.

"Do what again?" Lovett shouted back. "All you do is complain!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt the hand on my shoulder.

"Major Mustang," said Phil. He'd found me.

"What are you doing?" I said, trying to keep tough and collected. "Get back into formation."

"The formation scattered as soon as we stopped," he said. "Nothing to get back to."

I clenched my fists. "Damn it." What was Maes doing? Telling us we had ten minutes and then just going quiet all the sudden. Seemed like a pretty cruddy place to leave off. I chuckled to myself.

I heard Phil's gun fumbling and clicking in his hands as he readied it. His breath was so nervous. I knew he had to be low on ammo. After the first attack, who wouldn't be?

"You need bullets?" I said.

"Everyone does," he said. "I think I'll get by. Just can't fire lightly."

It occurred to me that we'd be out of artillery by the end of this battle. And Maes had promised more battles than just this one.

A flash of blue light from a ways away told me someone was transmuting. The light bounced off Maes's tall silhouette long enough for me to catch a glimpse of him pulling a long scabbard out of the snow. And then the transmutation was over and the air was black again.

"Sir," said Falman. "Permission to employ the use of flashlights, sir!"

"Denied," said Maes. "Round everyone up. I want you all standing together, tight as you can. Now!"

"Yes, sir!" said Falman. And then he was shouting out orders to the rest of us. The scrambling mess of the rest of us. "Attention, everyone! Follow my voice and stand together as tight as you can! General's orders!"

"I can't see a damn thing!" Stewart said.

"Then they can't either," said Bale.

Was that why Maes was doing this? He didn't want the enemy to see us so he ordered the lights to stay off? What was the point? The enemy didn't need their eyes to tell them we were sitting ducks. We were being loud enough to compensate for the dark just fine. It was kind of late to hide.

Phil kept his hand on my shoulder as we clumped together with the others. I didn't know who else I was near to now besides my guard guy, but they all smelled like soot. No surprise. My stomach clenched. One of them smelled like cigarettes.

"Mikey?" I said.

His shaky voice came from behind me. "Y-Yeah? I mean—yes, sir?"

Jeez, he sounded nervous. "Nothing," I said. "Just recognized you, is all."

"What are we doing?" he said. "It's too late to hide. They're going to find us!"

"Yep," I said. "Guess we'll see."

"Damn it," he muttered, voice thick with fear. "I…I don't want to do this again either, Major."

I suddenly felt insensitive. I cleared my throat. "I know, sweet pea."

Mikey's nervous chuckle puffed his cigarette breath on my hair. "Nearly had me fooled. All that small talk while we were marching? You really had us distracted. Forgot to panic for a while there."

"We're going to be fine, Lieutenant," I said. "The General didn't earn favor with the higher ups with just alchemy, you get me?"

"You called me _Lieutenant_," said Mikey. He shuddered. "Damn it. I knew things were serious."

"I call you _Lieutenant_ sometimes," I said.

"Not often," said Mikey.

"Not often," Olga agreed from my right. "But tonight _is_ serious."

"Armstrong, is Fuery still with you?" said Mikey.

"I'm here," George said weakly from near Olga. "I'm okay." He didn't sound okay.

"What the hell is Elric doing?" said Lovett from nearby.

"Nothing," replied Dr. Knox gruffly. "I doubt the kid has a clue at this point." And that stung coming from one of the few here with experience.

"Do you hear people coming?" Focker said. Poor guy never really calmed down. "I think I hear something!"

"Do not scare yourself," replied a thick accented Bagrov, my Drachman buddy. "No one is here yet."

"You'd know," said Bick from Briggs. His voice was toxic with hate. "Drachman spy."

"Kelly, I'm scared," Emmett's little voice cried.

"I just dropped my bullets!" Lacey Wright said.

"Everyone just shut up!" Sophie yelled. "You're freaking me out!"

Dammit, Maes! Say something!

Blue light sparked around us. All around us, tracing a glowing line in the snow that immediately erupted into thick walls. They clanked over us like a dome. I was standing on the outer edge of the formation, so I was in touching distance of the barrier that had been erected over us. Metal. Maes had situated us inside a metal bubble. Suddenly, things seemed even darker than before.

"What's going on?" said Sophie.

"Everyone be quiet," Maes said. His voice was calm, but it's commanding tone resonated inside the metal fortress like he was screaming in our ears. He got his silence and he got it within the second. "Soul's Circuit," he said. "Grow four twenty-foot trees, one in each direction, about thirty feet out from us."

"Sir," I said.

Four trees. Easier said than done. This was wintertime in the north. All plant life was long dormant under feet of frozen snow. I'd have to spread my life force through the earth just to find trees to grow, and Maes knew that. Apparently, it was necessary.

I heard Phil grunt with surprise as I dropped to my knees and dug my hands through the snow to touch the earth. The snow collected up my sleeves, sending me into shivers, but there wasn't time to be careful. I closed my eyes in the already black and pulsed my life force into the barren ground beneath me. My heart skipped with adrenaline as I joined the flow of life, so much weaker here than in Central and in Xing where things grew lush. Life was still present, though. I rode the flow in four opposing directions and searched for trees.

"What are trees going to do?" said Lovett.

"The General ordered silence," Frank said.

"She can grow trees?" whispered Lacey.

The coordinates weren't perfect. Even so, I did find four scraps that could be used roughly thirty feet away. I could feel them. An acorn to the north, a dry leaf to the east, and splintered twigs to the south and west. I could feel their veins waiting to connect to the roots of life's flow, so tense it was like they were vibrating. I swore I could feel the tattoo over my chest getting warmer. I took a breath and made the connection. Life energy channeled in and out of me in a rush, and, for a moment, all I saw was warm, gentle white that filled my lungs with clover and pine. And the smell of wet grass after rain.

I stood. "General Elric, sir! It's done."

"Bowman Alchemist," Maes said, moving on without a moment wasted. "In three minutes you will be lighting these four trees on fire simultaneously by flaming arrows. Fashion your materials now. The use of a flashlight is permitted. Make it fast."

"Yes, sir!" said Braddock.

Braddock transmuted a bow by the light of one dim flashlight. I could barely see through the crowding people in the tight dome, but it was like no bow I'd ever seen. Standard in shape and size, I supposed, but the whole thing was carved over with arrays. Braddock transmuted four terrifying arrows next, each with matrixes carved into their tips.

"Soul's Circuit," said Maes. "Kill the trees. I need them as flammable as possible."

"Yes, sir," I said. Kind of scary.

There was something melancholy about it, reaching back down after breathing the four twenty-foot trees into life and cutting off their connection to turn them into firewood. Maes knew I didn't like doing that. But it had to be done.

The flashlight turned off. "Ready, sir," said Braddock.

"Listen up," said Maes. "If I call your name, you'll be coming with me. Everyone else stays sealed in this metal cover until it's clear. Understood?" He spoke again before we'd even finished saying, 'Yes, sir.' He listed the names like important groceries. And, damn, I listened.

"Brigadier General Falman, First Lieutenant Karley, Sergeant Bick," he said. Briggs guys. Expected. "Bowman, Soul's Circuit, Forging Alchemist," Forging was Bale. Maes had called on all the State Alchemists but his dad. "Izumi Curtis, Alphonse Elric, Scar," and every remaining alchemist but his sister. "Major Philip Thomas, Captain Stewart, Captain Law, Second Lieutenant Bradley, Sergeant George Fuery, and Second Lieutenant Collet Lovett. You all will accompany in this battle."

I blinked. Had I heard right? Because it sounded like he just put George and Lovett in while leaving Frank Charlie out.

"George Fuery?" Mikey exclaimed like a popping balloon. "You can't be serious! Please, sir! Let me go instead!"

I sucked in a breath at Mikey's words. He was terrified of going out there. What was he doing volunteering? Oh, God. Bad time to be a hero.

"Silence yourself, Lieutenant!" Maes said. Damn, he sounded stern. "I didn't call Fuery's name by mistake. Leaving yours out was no accident either." And, just like that, Maes was done discussing. He moved on like a machine. "We have less than a minute, so act quickly. Those of you whom I did not call to fight, give up all artillery to those who will fight. Do it now."

Bodies bumped and shuffled as soldiers fumbled through a messy weapons-exchange. I heard Phil thank someone as he received their ammo.

"Oh, God," Mikey was muttering. "Not you, George."

"I'll be fine," George whispered. "I can shoot. Still have my fingers."

"Here, take Olga's bullets," said Olga. "And her gun. Olga never used them anyway."

"Mustang, take mine," said Frank. "Only a few rounds left, but it's in good shape."

"Um," I said. "No thanks." Not into the whole bullet-thing.

"Lt. Colonel Charlie," Maes said sharply. "You keep your artillery."

"Sir," said Frank. It was an answer, a blind agreement, but something about the way Frank said it made it clear Maes was confusing him.

"Emmett?" I called. "Emmett, you here, baby?"

"Queen Nina?" he said. He was kind of far.

"I need a bag of corn chips," I said. He'd been put in charge of carrying some of the rations. That made him my ammunition supplier.

"Um, coming right up!" he said.

"Corn chips?" said Lovett. "The hell time is it to be eating?"

I ignored her, shoving through the crowd, following the sound of the plastic chip bag in Emmett's hand. As I took it, he told me, "Be safe, okay?"

I didn't get to answer. Maes's gloves jingled. "They're here," he said.

"No!" Sophie yelled. "Not again!"

"Falman," Maes said. "Flashlights. Give them to me."

"Sir."

Blue light glowed from Maes's gloves at his sides as he activated different arrays. In the glow, I saw him holding our four emergency flashlights, two in each big, bloodstained hand. His scabbard was hooked at his side. I sucked my lip.

"Do you hear anyone out there?" said Focker. "I don't hear anything!"

Maes ignored him. "Izumi Curtis, when I give the word, you transmute a one-man opening at the top of this fortress. I'll go up first and hold the enemy while those mentioned exit the dome. As soon as Izumi has sealed the dome behind us, Braddock will fire the flaming arrows. From there, wait for my orders. Don't so much as fire your weapons without my saying so." It was dead silence as Maes's gloves jingled louder and his fists glowed brighter. Bright enough to see his pale, expressionless face. He spoke again. Low. "With the energy left in these batteries, I'll be able to keep my transmutation up for about twelve-point-two seconds. Get to the surface by then."

"Yes, sir," we said.

"Izumi," said Maes. "Do it now!"

Grandma smacked her hands together and slammed her palms to the ground. A stone ladder shot up under her to take her within reach of the metal ceiling. With another clap of her hands, the hole was transmuted. My insides churned as I watched Grandma step down and my husband climb up. He disappeared into the dark outside.

"Dad, don't let him do this!" Sophie cried. "Maes! Don't go!"

Outside, the air flashed with blinding white light. This was it. This had to be the transmutation Maes was supposedly going to hold them off with. The crowd around me pulsed with panic as those called on fought to get up the ladder single file. Twelve seconds. Maes had said twelve seconds.

"Hold onto me, Fuery," Phil was saying.

Shoving the chip bag in my coat pocket, I joined the flow of people, clambering up with the rest of them, shaking off the familiar feeling of stepping into blinding white. This wasn't the Gate. It was battle. Marginally better!

Suddenly, I was out in the open and I missed the walls shielding me from the wind and snow. A sharp shiver went through my body and my back prickled with pain. There was no way of knowing where I was, just that it was somewhere on top of the dome. It was too bright to see.

"That everyone?" Grandma was saying. "Okay, I'm sealing it up!"

"Braddock, get ready!" said Falman.

This didn't make sense. Why weren't we being shot at? Just because the enemy couldn't see us didn't mean they couldn't shoot in our general direction. Was a few seconds of blinding light really that crippling? It had already been too dark to see beforehand. Maes said they were right on top of us, but…

"Braddock!" said Maes. "Now!"

"I can't see nothing, sir!" Braddock said. "What do I shoot at?"

The blinding light went out even as Braddock spoke, darkness flooding our eyes again. But that wasn't all. A ways ahead, maybe ten, maybe fifteen feet, shone a four-pointed beacon, the heads of the four flashlights Maes had taken amplified to the point of cutting through the darkness in laser-like beams. The beams shot through the black, each pointing perfectly to one of my dead trees around us. The sound of Braddock's arrows whipping from his alchemic bow blurred with the whipping of the wind. I could hear the arrows' heads breaking into the wood as they hit each tree, almost simultaneously. Braddock was fast. Damn, he was quick.

But the arrows hadn't been on fire!

The crackle of a lighter sparking hit the air and, for a split moment, I thought about how stupid Braddock was to have already shot the arrows. Then the darkness lifted like a curtain and all around was lit by the glow of four fiery trees. And I realized what had just happened.

Major Braddock stood tall on the dome, just feet ahead of me. In one hand, he held his marked bow. In the other, a lit lighter. Each hand was wearing some variation of archery gloves with matching embroidered matrixes on the backs and the matrixes of the gloves were crackling with the after-currents of a transmutation. The matrixes on the bow and the places where the arrows had hit the trees crackled similarly. The lighter practically swarmed with blue light; clearly the center of his recently completed transmutation. He'd used the matrixes on his gloves and bow to transfer the flame reaction of the lighter to the matrixes on the arrows with zero direct contact. I couldn't figure how he'd done it, but I knew that's what he'd done. Long range alchemy at its finest.

There wasn't time to marvel, though. When those trees went up in flames, it became very clear as to why Maes had ordered it be done. We were surrounded, completely surrounded, by what had to be a good thirty bad-looking guys. They were all masked and in full camouflage gear, as if that did squat in the middle of the tundra. Still, it made them look intimidating to say the least.

Most of us were standing dumbstruck on the top of the metal dome. Phil was beside me like a loyal dog. George was standing at his other side and the kid was pale like death and shaky like he'd faint and I had a feeling it wasn't just fear that had him looking so sick. Bick, Karley, and Falman from Briggs were on the ground along with Selim, and if I had to guess, it was for no other reason besides the dome was small and too crowded for all of us to stand on it at once.

Weapons were drawn all around and we stood staring and trembling in silence as the masked enemy thirty feet away in every direction stared right back at us through their camouflage. These were pros. We were a bunch of losers going against pros!

And there was our all-star player.

Maes was apart from us, pacing in even, smooth strides at a ten-foot radius from where we clumped at the dome. His deadpan gaze was locked on the enemy, like an animal stalking its prey from the inside. What had once been our four flashlights now lay as gnarled hunks of metal, abandoned in the snow where Maes had dropped them when they'd stopped being useful. He didn't tremble. Didn't flinch. Barely even blinked. One hand was resting easily on the hilt of his scabbard, and in the roaring light of the fire, I saw the overwhelming detail of matrixes he'd marked into the weapon when he'd transmuted it. Suddenly, his notion of guns making for limited attacks made so much more sense.

I looked back at the enemy. Why weren't they shooting? They had their big fat guns pointed right at us. So why hadn't they wiped us out yet? What had Maes done?

"I see." Maes's voice was clear like a bell. He came to stand in place, looking out at our enemy dully. His pupils vibrated side to side as he drew his sword in front of him. "You want one of us alive."

I swallowed hard. The enemy didn't react to his words. Maes lowered his sword to his side, quiet. The enemy remained as they were.

"Leave now," Maes said, finally. "Forget this encounter and you will live to see tomorrow."

No one spoke. The wind burned like smoke and Maes's soft breath puffed like steam in the icy air. I could hear George wheeze as the fire flared his asthma. The tension coursed adrenaline through my body. My stomach lurched as I met eyes with one of the enemy. I looked back to Maes. His expression was close to a frown. I heard guns clicking and readying and they weren't coming from our side. The enemy was going to fire. And Maes had picked a stupid setup for defense.

"Alphonse, Izumi," Maes said, his voice rising to his commander-tone. "Guard the fortress. Soul's Circuit, the trees are yours."

The trees are mine? What's that supposed to mean? This is the part where I know what I'm doing, right?

"Give us Bagrov," said one of the masked guys. He had to speak loud above the wind and the distance. His voice was gravelly, warped with an unearthly hoarseness that made him sound like a villain. It sent chills down me. "Do it now and we may spare you."

I caught a falter in Maes's vibrating pupils. His gaze locked on the man who had spoken, directly in front of him, standing near a blazing tree to the north twenty feet ahead.

"If I give you Bagrov now," Maes said calmly, "you'll start shooting."

There was an icy silence as Maes's posture tightened like a cat preparing to pounce and weapons shook harder in the hands of their holders.

"Bagrov's in the fort!" Captain Law blurted. "Just take your Drachman buddies and leave us alone!"

For a split moment, everything was silent. Then the guns went off.

The ground pulsed with currents of alchemic energy as Maes erected barriers from the ground, shielding us from enemy fire. The walls crumbled under gunfire and Maes only transmuted more. I caught Lovett on her knees pounding the sealed metal dome, begging to be let back in.

"You idiot!" Major Bale was yelling at Law. "Now they've got no reason to hold back!"

"Then bring him out here!" Captain Stewart said. "Bring him out and they'll stop!"

Uncle Al had jumped down from the dome and was helping Maes keep up with shielding us. Grandma was on her way to join them, it seemed. Scar too. Alchemic energy glowed from the ground as Braddock transmuted new arrows.

"Alchemists, give me walls!" Maes shouted. "Keep them coming!"

Braddock fired his bow, every point that hit immediately bursting into a new piece of wall. Whatever artillery the enemy was using had to be heavy, though. Even with the quality of transmutations from masters, bullets were still sending the barriers crumbling within seconds of being erected. Maes left the defense to the other alchemists, backing up and calling orders like a machine.

"Alphonse, Izumi, keep to the fort. Remember your orders!" Maes swept his sword through the air as the wall far to his right began to crack. Blue light traveled from the grip of his glove down the matrixes along his sword. As the sword tip brushed the ground, alchemic currents shot through and climbed the distance to the breaking piece of wall. In a split moment, the crack was reinforced. And Maes hadn't even blinked as he'd done it. "Team Knox, on the ground!" And out of the way, because Lovett, Stewart, and Law had just proven themselves to be panickers and Bale was already on the ground transmuting walls anyway. "Soul's Circuit, Major Thomas, Briggs men, come with me." Oh, God. We were leading an attack! "Those left, shoot down anyone who makes it past our defenses."

Phil grabbed my waist and suddenly we were off the dome and knee-deep in snow. George was hacking up a storm up top where the smoke was rising and thicker. I swore I heard his inhaler going over the yells and bullets. Told myself I didn't need to worry as long as he took his inhaler.

"Nina?" said Phil, worry tainting his firm tone.

I shrugged him off and replied trying to sound tough. "That's Major Mustang to you."

Phil and I headed toward Maes where he and the Briggs guys were already making a steady advance toward the walls. Darn my short legs! Darn their long ones! My back hurt and my stomach churned and, jeez, the fire from those trees gave light, but the smoke burned my eyes and lungs to hell. This was so not okay. It was a good thing I knew Maes and knew he had a plan and a good one, because otherwise I'd probably have been in the panicking-loser-corner with team Knox.

"I'll want two alive for questioning," said Maes to us five. "I'll make them known when I've decided. Until then, they're all yours. Kill them. Wound them. Bury them alive. I don't care. Just make them useless. Understood?"

Together, we answered, "Yes, sir."

And then Maes went ahead of us and sliced into the wall with his sword. A doorway transmuted from the flash of his blade. It opened, short enough that Maes had to duck through it. Falman, Karley, Bick, and Phil had to duck as they followed. Me, I didn't have to duck. And I was okay with that.

As we ran out into the open, the perfect open with bullets coming at us from a bunch of directions, Maes raised up his blade in front of his face. Marks over his glove were glowing, as was the sword in his grip, and his eyes darted in calculated, split-second sweeps, corner to corner. His wrist jerked and swung the sword in front of him with the kind of technique you'd expect from a guy who'd never really used a sword before, but the speed and accuracy was breathtaking. Bullets blasted, but none made it to the six of us as we crossed the open air. Maes's quick eyes were catching every shot and his magical alchemy blade stopped each one. The angle we were running from gave us cover where the alchemists were situating walls. All Maes need do was swing out his long-ass arm here and there at whiplash speed and we were fine.

"Permission to fire, sir!" Falman said.

"Granted," said Maes.

As if for emphasis, Maes got the ball rolling by very visibly glancing a shot off his blade, right back at the enemy. Ten feet away, I watched a masked mystery guy drop bloody and probably dead. I could barely catch Maes's expression, but it didn't seem fazed. This was the General Effect. The 'I refuse to give a darn' Effect. The 'I even excel at crap I hate' Effect. The 'Apparently I can use a sword without Grandma's stupid help' Effect. The 'I will kill people with a straight face if they shoot at my wife and our unborn child' Effect.

And it was a little bit hot.

Briggs guys held out their weapons and fired at will. Phil kept to my side and I could tell he was firing with me in mind as the enemy's formation shifted to shoot at their moving targets. Maes's sword kept flicking bullets away so fast and constant that I wondered how bad his arm would hurt by the end. Masked men cried out and dropped limp one after the other until they were stepping back from our advance. We were on offense, I realized. Six against a rough thirty.

"Take out the advancing party!" the masked man with the gravelly voice shouted as bodies fell. "Bagrov can wait!"

Maes's blade flashed from impact and hummed with motion as the bullets thickened toward us.

"Hey!" Karley shouted, and I realized he was shouting at me. "Wake up, Major! Where's your gun?"

The words spilled out of me pretty breathless. "I can't shoot for shit, man!"

He gave me a look like confusion and disgust creasing his model-features, but the look was lost in moments as his pale eyes focused back to shooting. I swore I could hear Bick throwing around the f-bomb in response to my reply. Had to give them credit. Lovett or any of the others from Central probably would've been griping, but Briggs soldiers knew better than to question stuff.

As the enemy backed away from our advance, Maes's steps came to a decisive stop. It was too fast, too without warning, and the rest of us had to stumble over ourselves to stop behind him. Maes didn't seem to notice, or to care. We'd stopped nearly directly under the flaming branches of the tree where the guy barking orders had been before he'd pulled back. As we stopped, the enemy's formation tightened, filling gaps where a good half of their numbers had thinned. It seemed dangerous, like we were giving them time to heal.

Maes spoke as he continued to block bullets, his eyes forward. "Soul's Circuit, I want their leader and the man with the injured shoulder to his left. Take them alive. Major Thomas, give her cover."

"Yes, sir!" Phil said.

Yes, sir? What the hell? _I want their leader and the guy to his left_ didn't count as orders in my book! How the heck did he want me to do this? Use my freaking words?

_The trees are yours._

Oh, shoot. _That_ was what he wanted.

"On the _double_, sir!" I said. And I smiled, because I'd kind of made a pun there. I dropped to my knees and got going with my elbows deep in snow.

Maes gave the Briggs guys orders as they took out the bad guys. Phil stood over me, gun firing over and over, enough to make my ears ache. He'd run out of ammo soon. They all would. Even with the extra rounds they'd received from those staying in the dome. But I didn't have to worry. Maes had probably calculated the number of _seconds_ it would take before that happened long ago and he'd already formulated seven hundred plans as backup. I just had to grow some damn trees. Because the trees were mine. My guns.

Maes had gotten me close, within a few feet of the twenty-foot burning trunk, and it wasn't to be in the action, I realized. It was so I'd have direct contact with the roots. Spreading my life force through the earth to transmute the plant was harder than joining the plant's flow directly. This would be a cinch.

I took a deep breath of the smoky air around us and coughed hard on it. The tattoos on my wrists activated as I made contact with roots. Life energy flowed through me and into the tree, in and out, and the next breath I took seemed clearer. The burning tree went from it's dead grey-brown to a stunning chestnut color that was soon flaring with bright green leaves from each smoldering branch. This was why joining life's flow was so great when it came to plants, I thought as I watched the tree grow and the flames with it. Plants didn't have nervous systems mine would sympathize with during a transmutation. If this had been a person I'd joined with, I'd definitely have felt that burning here and there when I tried to correct the flow. The tree just looked cool.

The leader guy with the gravelly voice was dressed like the others, but I'd memorized his build by now and picking him out beside the injured guy was easy as cake. I channeled energy into the tree's long branches, sucking hard on my lip. This was the part I needed to concentrate on. Channeling energy just so and then maybe the branches…

Would grow in the directions I willed them! Yes! They were doing it! It looked absolutely freaky, but in one epic moment of improvising, I turned my tree into my vines. I had control! I could feel the tattooed skin on my chest grow feverish from the power surging through me.

"Oh, gorgeous!" my lips whispered.

Branches grew long and plunged to the ground with a slam, pinning down the leader and the injured guy in one swoop. It was beautiful. I could've crushed them, probably looked like I would, but I held them down as gently as a mother keeping her babies from running out into the street. Just by thinking about it, I could do that! And, damn, it felt good.

The branch coiled around the two masked men like the best restraints ever. Twiggy extensions grew from the branch holding them and hooked the guns out of their hands, scattering the weapons into the snow. Leader-guy tried to bark orders from his restrained position. Thick tendrils sprouted from the branch hugging him, up to his face, latching and spinning around his mouth like a gag. I could see from where I was, his surprised eyes poking through that mask. That's what you get when you threaten my baby's safety and make my hubby kill people, loser!

"Damn it!" Phil said. "I'm out!"

His gun clicked emptily over me. I shook my head.

"And I'm done," I said. "No cover needed."

Phil looked at me like he'd tell me to be careful or something as I stood with him, but then his eye was caught by Maes and the Briggs guys. Well, if I had to take a guess, I'd have said it was more Maes than the Briggs guys. With the two I'd captured nice and set aside, Maes acted much more free in his attacks. The enemy worked against itself as they focused their fire toward the advancing party, just like they'd been ordered. With our open surroundings and Maes simply throwing back the bullets fired at us, our enemy was wiped out within less than a minute of their leader being incapacitated.

Maes stood still. Things were suddenly very quiet. Not silent; people from our troop were still making some noise. But it was quiet. The gunshots had stopped. The alchemic walls stood firm without any attackers left to take them down. The burning trees were crackling cozily, keeping the air gross and smoky. The panting breaths of the Briggs men could be heard from where I stood.

I watched Maes. His eyes darted for an instant, assessing the outcome, and then he was turning from the bodies and the fire and striding back to his troop with that same straight face, not so much as pausing to catch his breath. Like defeating these guys had been a mere side-note on his to-do list. Or, you know, maybe he just wasn't wild about standing anywhere near the corpses he'd just led his men in creating. I sucked my lip, because I knew that was it. He looked pretty much the coolest walking back over without a sweat, but in the back of my mind, I knew he was just hiding with style.

"Um, Nina?" Phil's voice was sort of shaky and I wondered if he was cold. I looked up at him. His eyes were wide, kind of scared maybe, locked on the burning trees and the elongated branches restraining our two live prisoners. As the air shone with the blue glow of Maes taking down the walls, Phil looked at me. "Not to question the Fuhrer, but what exactly made your father think you needed protecting?"

* * *

**Oh ho ho. Phil, if you only knew.**

REPLIES!

'Guest': Read the little NEWS section of my profile :D

mixmax300: If I had a quarter for every time someone told me my writing was putting them in some sort of peril...

KTrevo: Yeah, well, we can't love everyone :P *I'm sorry for making you awful, Lovett*

dannimaeanime92: Haha, the late reviews sped me up!

Harryswoman: Oo, happy moving! I've moved a lot in my time and never exactly enjoyed it. I don't like unpacking :S

Evarria: Haha! I know, right? The cliffy had to happen. I'm sorry, but it's true. You're lucky you read the chapter later. Now you get the cliffy resolved sooner than the poor folks who read it right away.


	19. Apparently, We're Not Soldiers

**A/N: Hey, guys! Here's your next FL2 update :D Please read the announcement to keep informed and junk...**

****ANNOUNCEMENT****\- I've decided to do NaNoWriMo after all. I need to write that book I started in April, dang it! So, I've decided to dedicate this month to that. NO FANFICTIONS UNTIL DECEMBER! Because I'm weak and if I give myself permission to work on my fics rather than my publishable stuff, I'll never get around to the publishable stuff (as proven over the course of many months). I am sorry about the wait, but you guys have waited longer. I'm updating FL2, Human Shield, AND Accident Baby all in the same day as a sort of, "Thanks for the patience, lovelies! See you in a month!" kind of present. So, enjoy and see you in December! Read on!****

* * *

Chapter 19: Apparently, We're Not Soldiers

Maes spouted some quick orders as he took down the dome. Told Falman to watch our good Drachman buddy, Victor Bagrov; apparently enough, our enemy wanted the guy. Maes told Bick to watch the rest of the Drachman escort and Karley got put in charge of watching our two prisoners. It was painfully obvious that Maes was giving all the serious jobs to the Briggs team. Couldn't blame him. They were tough as nails and pretty good at sticking to orders without complaining or, you know, having a nervous breakdown.

A nervous breakdown like Lovett, Stewart, and Law had had during the attack. Okay, it was mostly Lovett. Captains Stewart and Law had just been stupid and all around chickens. Maes didn't pay them any attention, though. Bale, Team Knox's leader, was already busy reprimanding them as the dust settled. No, Maes was way too busy checking up on George.

With the dome down, George stood at ground level, Braddock at his side with a firm hand under his arm helping him stay upright. George hacked and coughed like murder. His shivers were violent. Poor baby could barely breathe after all that smoke up there on that dome. Olga and Mikey stood by him, looking pretty much worried. Frank stood close too, and even he looked uneasy. Maes was smart. What in the heck had possessed him to put the injured asthmatic up there with smoke rising in the air?

I rubbed my back. Damn it. Sore.

"Nina?" Phil said in a near whisper.

"Let's head over to the others," I said. "I want to hear this."

We went over. Folks stared at us. Okay, mostly at me. Apparently what I'd done was impressive. Uncle Al told me, 'Good job.' Scar looked at me like I was some ungodly experiment. Ha.

People who'd been stuck waiting in the dome the whole time looked out at the aftermath with varying reactions. I didn't pay them much mind, though. I made my way over to Maes. He'd gotten George to come to his knees and he was kneeling in front of him with his hands over his head. George raised his trembling hands to mimic.

"Okay," said Maes. "Now clasp your hands and just rest them on the top of your head. Right. Just like that. Give your lungs some room. Take some deep breaths, soldier. I'm going to count up to four and you inhale and then I'll count back and you exhale. Got it?"

Uncle Ed was standing nearby. I met his eyes for a moment. I'd seen him do this sort of thing with Maes back when Maes had been the one with trouble breathing. During storms, mostly. Count up, inhale. Count down, exhale. Again and again. Just keep breathing. Uncle Ed just frowned. He seemed pretty bothered, and there was no shortage of things for him to be bothered about. Sophie was trembling in his arms. His son had just left him out of a pretty serious standoff. He was currently surrounded by a wide circle of his son's casualties. Yeah, not the best of days.

"You shouldn't have put him out there," Mikey said with a glare pinned at Maes. "Look at him. He can barely breathe. You think he could fight like this?"

"Mind your place, Havoc," said Frank.

Maes ignored them. "Good, Fuery. And back again. Four, three, two, one…"

George followed Maes's lead like a little puppy, his big brown eyes locked to Maes's gaze like it was the only thing keeping him conscious. I had to admit that it was a little odd. Big, badass General taking a break for some one-on-one breathing exercises with a sick soldier. But for Maes this was the norm. This was exactly what the Maes Effect would be doing.

"It doesn't matter what you think," Bale was saying from a ways off. "You were out of line, Law. That's all there is to it. You get that? You could've gotten us all killed!"

"He said he was sorry already!" Captain Stewart said back. "Just lay off, Bale. He got scared and made a mistake. Could've happened to anyone."

"I was not scared!" Law said. "I was just being…you know, smart. I mean, they wanted that Bagrov guy and we wanted to live. Seemed like a fair trade."

"That wasn't your decision to make!" Bale said, and the level of offense in his voice was kind of cool. I snorted to myself, because Captain Law was a bit of a total idiot.

"I swear!" I heard poor Bagrov sputtering as Falman tied his wrists behind his back. "I do not know these men. I have nothing to do with this!"

Falman stared at Bagrov like this was all just a little over his head. It was the, 'Just following orders,' stare. That's how he'd always been. A damn good soldier. Could carry out orders like a beast. But not quite the type to take charge the way Maes or my dad could.

"In; one, two, three, four," Maes kept on. "Out; four, three, two, one. Good, to five now. In; one, two, three, four, five…"

Lovett was sitting on the ground. She was near Bale and the others, but she wasn't engaging in their conversation. She didn't seem to be engaging in anything. She'd hugged her knees up to her nose and, by the way she was shuddering, I figured she was probably crying. My heart sank for her. So, she'd realized. She'd seen with her own eyes. We were nothing without Maes.

"In; one, two, three, four, five," Maes said. "Out; five, four, three, two, one."

"What was he thinking?" Knox said gruffly to his son. "The kid's half-dead as it is. Who puts George Fuery out on the battlefield and leaves Fullmetal and Charlie behind? This guy's nuts."

"Keep it down, Dad," Knoxy Junior hissed.

Maes placed a hand on George's back. "Good, keep going. Just like that. Count in your head. Out; five, four, three, two, one. Good." He met Braddock's eyes. "Time it. In ten minutes, try his rescue inhaler again. Twice every ten minutes after that for the next hour and he should be fine. Make sure he stays hydrated."

Braddock nodded. "Yes, sir." And he got out his watch to time it.

"Major Mustang," said Kelly, "did this?"

"Awesome!" said Emmett.

I heard Selim chuckling nervously. "Yeah, kind of. Braddock was the one who lit them on fire, though. Don't worry, ma'am. Nina Mustang's not _that_ dangerous."

I laughed into my hand. Phil gave me a look like, 'What the hell?' I just shook my head.

"You'll be fine, Sergeant," Maes said to George. "Stay on your feet as you're able. We'll make camp again soon."

"Yes, sir," George croaked. Braddock and Mikey slowly helped him to his feet.

Oh, God. Maes planned on marching again? Yeah, that sounded like him. Probably had all kinds of reasons he thought that was a good idea, a big one being we were currently surrounded by dead bodies and it was just creepy. All I could think was that neither of us had slept and I was starting to ache.

Maes stood. He looked out at all of us. His sad little troop, gathered sloppily, chattering and whimpering like kids. The air was a dull hum of soldiers spouting off at each other. Maes's slight frown told me he didn't like it. His scabbard had been tucked at his side. He now took it in one gloved hand and with a blue flash of light it crumbled into dust. I blinked. Okay, now that looked cool. The hum of chatter died. Maes brushed off his gloves and folded his arms.

"Fullmetal," Maes said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Stand beside Sergeant Fuery."

Uncle Ed did as he was told. Sophie trembled as he left her. Poor baby. I just wanted to hug her.

Maes stood facing his dad and George, just a couple feet from them. Dang, he was tall. Usually he hunched a little, but Maes was being a general right now, and generals didn't hunch. Maes stepped back from them and turned to the rest of us.

"Sergeant Fuery and the Fullmetal Alchemist," he said. "Which one of them is a soldier?"

I gulped. Oh, crap. Not that I knew where this was going, but I knew enough about Maes to know it couldn't be good. Uncle Ed suddenly looked paler. George had already been pale. He was still just counting his breaths. The difference between the two with them side-by-side like that was striking. Uncle Ed was about eight or nine inches taller than George at least. His stance was strong, looking pretty professional in his blue uniform with his gold ponytail sticking out the back of his cap. George was shaking like crazy, shivers going up and down him like currents, his wobbly knees telling me he was barely keeping on his feet.

"Answer me," said Maes, looking out at all of us. "Which one of these men is a soldier?"

"Both?" guessed Emmett quietly.

"Fullmetal," said someone.

And then it was reverberating through the whole crowd. Fullmetal. Fullmetal's a soldier. He's older. He's stronger. He's a freaking major and kind of a legend. George's strained eyes sank as more than half the soldiers in our troop agreed that he wasn't fit. The rest just remained silent. Maes nodded.

"Lt. Col. Charlie," Maes said. "Lend me your weapon."

Frank handed Maes his gun. Maes took it and put it out to his dad. Uncle Ed stared at the silvery piece like it was a venomous snake staring right back at him.

"Take it, Fullmetal," said Maes. "You do know how to use it, don't you?"

"Um, yeah," Uncle Ed muttered. His voice was weak in his throat. His posture shifted, somewhat shrinking back as he took the gun in his hand.

"Sergeant Fuery," said Maes. "Draw your weapon."

"Yes, sir," George said hoarsely. He took out his gun.

"Hold your weapons out, both of you," said Maes. "Leave the safety on. Just hold them out in front of you."

And then I saw Maes's point. George and Uncle Ed did as they were told and raised their guns in front of them, and everything changed. Uncle Ed's wrist shook and he had to raise his other trembling hand up to keep from dropping the gun right out of his grip. His expression was nothing short of fear.

George changed too, but in the opposite direction. Having a gun in hand brought on a certain new level of seriousness to him, a professionalism. His stance firmed up, the wobbles in his knees disappearing so he stood tall and steady. His arms held out straight, the gun pointed ahead with confidence. I could tell by his grinding teeth that the cold was making him shaky, but he didn't shake. Not with a gun in his hands. The pain in his face was all but dissolved.

Maes looked out at us. "Try again. Which one of these men is the soldier?"

Dead silence. It was painfully obvious. George was the fit soldier between them. But no one wanted to say it. I sucked my lip. I kind of wanted to give the answer, because I could tell George was tired and kind of wanted to put his arms down, but Frank beat me to it.

"Sergeant Fuery, sir," said Frank. "He's the soldier."

Maes looked at Frank. "And what makes you say that?"

"He follows orders, sir," said Frank. "And he does it without flinching."

"Lower your weapons," said Maes. "Fullmetal, return Charlie's gun."

George holstered his gun, panting from the strain. He was shivering again. Right like before. Uncle Ed gave Frank back his gun and stood pretty slouched and maybe a little ashamed. Maes spoke to all of us, his gold eyes lit with disapproval.

"I said at the station," he said, "that when you do as I say, less people get dead. Allow me to amend that statement. When you do as I say, less of _us_ get dead. Of the thirty-two man enemy we just faced, six of them were able to make it past our alchemists' defenses from behind." This was something I hadn't been paying attention to. "One of these six was shot down by Lieutenant Bradley. Captain Stewart was able to take down one also. The other four of the six that made it past were shot down by Sergeant Fuery. They were not _lucky shots_. They were _confident_ shots, from one who I have learned decisively does not hesitate. George Fuery does not do anything halfway. That was why he was chosen for this investigation team and that is why he was chosen for our last line of defense in this battle. Does anyone have any lingering objections to this decision?"

No one answered. No one dared.

"I don't owe a single one of you an explanation," said Maes. "You follow orders. That's all you're to do, but this constant whining and complaining is beginning to grate on my nerves, so I'm going to spell it out for you once. And then you're going to get yourselves together." His eyes narrowed and I knew he was legitimately bothered. "Most of you were chosen for an investigation mission. Some were escorting us into Drachma. One of you was just accompanying us to Briggs. A few of you were serving tea on the train over. Needless to say, not a one of you was chosen to fight. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that we'd be the last group the Fuhrer would send out if that were the case. The hard truth is, with a few exceptions, none of you are soldiers. I'm not leading forces through battle. I'm trying to get you all home with your lives. I used Fuery because I could depend on him to shoot. I didn't use Fullmetal because I couldn't depend on him. I kept Lovett and Law out in the open because they needed to see the gravity of the situation with their own eyes. I kept Frank Charlie back because if something happened to me, he's the only one I can see getting the rest of you out of this alive. In a moment, I'm going to tell you to start marching again and I'm going to lead you to a place where you will be able to rest for several hours instead of several minutes, as would be the case if we camped here. To make a long story short, from now on, if you have some kind of unresolved curiosity about why I do the things I do, assume I've thought it through a hundred times better than you ever could and just leave it the hell alone."

Aw, man. He sounded so stuck up. Unfortunately, it was all true. And people weren't mumbling and grumbling and talking back like they'd done before he'd shown his stuff. Even Knox looked pretty sobered.

"Lt. Col. Charlie and Lt. Bradley," said Maes. "Assist Lt. Karley in restraining the prisoners by means more compatible with travel. They'll be walking with us for now. Keep a gun on them at all times." He looked at Phil. "Major Thomas, lead those who are able in stripping enemy bodies of weapons and ammunition. Have it distributed evenly."

So that's how Maes planned on solving the ammo problem. Pretty effective.

As Maes finished ordering people around and they all started getting their acts together to move on, I noticed Lovett sitting on her own still. Law tapped her on the shoulder a few solid times, but she shrugged him off. This whole thing, it was a rude awakening for her. I was sure of it. She'd been getting so dang mad at Maes. It hadn't really occurred to me that this whole time she might've actually thought her anger was as justified as she was acting.

Maes came beside me and met my gaze. I sucked my lip. His eyes were so dead in their sockets, resting on me like they were too heavy to look at anything else.

"You okay?" I said. I cleared my throat and added, "Sir?"

He nodded. "You?"

"Yeah, just sore." I hugged my tummy. "The rule was you don't worry about me, remember?"

He looked away and nodded.

"What's the matter, sir?" I said.

He was quiet for a moment. "You asked Emmett for a bag of corn chips right before we went out into the open. They're still in your pocket. Care to explain?"

"Oh." I patted my pocket. Yeah, they were crushed. "It was just a precaution, you know? Like, I didn't know what you were doing. I didn't know you were going to have me use the trees. The chips were more or less my ammo, you get me?"

Maes's eyes flashed back to mine. He looked hurt. "I wouldn't have sent you out there without a plan, Major. From now on, I'd prefer it if you didn't make plans to use my favorite food to kill people."

I blinked. "Are you serious?"

He nodded.

Oh, God. He was the cutest thing in the world! I smiled a little. "Understood, sir."

He let out a breath, something like relief. He nodded. "Good work out there, Major."

"You too, sir." I bit my lip. "I mean, the _speech_ was killer." I winced. "I meant stellar. The speech was stellar, sir."

Maes looked at me for a moment. I wondered if in his head he might be smiling the slightest bit. Or maybe crying. Whichever. On the outside, he kept himself nice and blank.

"Assist the others," Maes said, finally.

"Yes, sir," I said with a sharp salute. Since he'd been pretty vague with his orders, I saw fit to assist Lovett in getting herself together.

She was sitting on the ground, a little lump in the snow. Dang pathetic. Weeping like Sophie. She'd teased Sophie, but she was just as bad now. Maybe that's why she'd teased her. I came and sat beside her. She kept her face buried in her knees, whole body twitching with her sobs. I kind of wondered if she'd even noticed me come. After a moment, I put my hand on her shoulder. She shrugged me off.

"I said leave me alone, dammit!" she cried.

"Um," I said. "Sorry. This is the first I'm hearing it."

Her body shivered at my voice. Something about the way she peeked at me over her knees told me she hadn't realized it was me next to her. I forced a smile at her, feeling pretty awkward. Her eyes glared and she hid in her knees again.

"What?" she said. "You here to get my act in gear? Do your husband's bidding?"

"I'm here to say sorry," I said. "About Melanie, I mean."

Lovett's crying faltered. For a moment, it seemed kind of like she'd laughed. She sniffled hard. "Oh, yeah, because that's exactly what I was going for. Sitting here blubbering in the snow. I was looking for pity."

"She was your best friend, right?" I said. "Around the office she was. That's how you acted."

"God, save it, would you?" Lovett rubbed her eyes, trying to recover herself. Something about my presence made her self-conscious. "Yes, she was my best friend, okay? What are you going to do about it? Offer me some sage advice? Give me a hug? Honey, you're cute, but this whole Sweetheart of Amestris thing doesn't work on me. Just leave me alone."

I quirked a brow. "You serious? You just saw what I can really do and you still think I'm 'Sweetheart of Amestris' material? I'm flattered."

Lovett hugged her knees tighter. "Just go."

"But I'm so comfy right here with my butt in the snow."

"Damn it!" Lovett looked up at me with fierce eyes. "Quit with the cheerful little rich girl thing! Yes, I just saw my best friend die. Yes, I'm pretty freaking upset about it! Don't sit here like you know me! What the hell have you ever lost?"

I sucked my lip. Um…

I shrugged. "You're right. I don't know you. Well, I kind of knew you around the office, but I never really remembered your name all that well because you and Melanie looked so much alike that I was always mixing you two up. But, hey. That was cool. You two always traveled together, so if I got a name wrong, at least one of you would answer to it, right?"

Lovett let out a sob and let her face fall in her hands. "Just go away!"

Apparently, I'd said the wrong thing. Take two. "But, just so we're clear, you don't know me either, Collette. And, hey, that's okay. Hardly anyone knows me."

"Yeah, you're the Fuhrer's kid," she said mockingly. "Poor thing. No one knows the real you deep down inside."

I sighed. She was a tough pickle. "Look, Lovett, what I'm trying to say without coming right out and saying it is you're a little wrong if you think this attitude of mine is the result of being a cheerful little rich girl. Like, seriously? You want to know what it looks like when sheltered kids get exposed to traumatic situations? Go talk to Sophie Elric and Mikey Havoc. Come on, Collette. You seem like a pretty intelligent gal. You made second lieutenant with Melanie last year and you're only a couple years older than me. Don't tell me you haven't noticed how disturbingly okay I've been acting. Give it some hard thought. Am I really acting like a cheerful little rich girl, or is this more like the behavior of someone who's done this kind of thing before?"

Lovett sniffled. She looked up at me. "What are you talking about?"

I bit my lip. Carefully, I chanced putting my hand on her shoulder again, and she let me leave it there about a second and a half before she shrugged me off again. Progress.

"Nothing you say is going to make this better," said Lovett.

I nodded, hugging my legs to my chest with a sigh. "When I was a little girl, I had a bunch of friends before I got adopted. Some were closer than others. My best friend out of all of them was a lot like you and Melanie, you know? She stuck with me all the time. She'd been through a lot and so she was pretty much clingy. Not like I minded. I loved her. Closest thing I've ever had to a sister before Sophie."

Lovett looked a little put off by my tale of woe. "And then you got adopted and you never saw her again?"

"She died," I said.

Lovett paused. Her wet eyes widened slightly.

"I heard her screaming for me from the next room," I said. "She was screaming for me and I couldn't do anything. You asked me what I'd ever lost. Well, her. I lost her."

"I…" Lovett swallowed. "I didn't know."

I shrugged. "That's not a story I tell a lot of people."

"Sorry."

"I don't want you getting sorry," I said, a little amused. I patted her back, and this time she let me. "I want you to quit shutting me up because you think I don't have a clue. I mean, it's probably different for me since it was years and years ago and I was just a kid and stuff, but seriously. I'm not some candy-coated Sweetheart of Amestris."

"I can see that," Lovett muttered. "Okay, so what? What do you have to say?"

"Nothing," I said. "I mean, I just felt bad for you. Sitting here crying by yourself. Figured I'd keep you company."

Lovett rolled her eyes at me, and it was kind of funny. "You realize you just described pity, right?"

"You look pretty dang pitiful, Lovett." I swung my arm around her shoulders comfort-style. "I'm sorry about Melanie. You need to talk, I'm here."

Lovett stared at me for a moment. Her wet eyes dripped as she blinked. She nodded, huddling into my hug just a little. "Yeah, thanks, Mustang."

I patted her arm. "It's going to be okay. General Elric's not going to be caught off guard twice. He's looking out for his men. You've got plenty of buddies in this little troop looking out for you too. Just do your best not to take your pain out on the rest of us and you're doing your part, you got me?"

She chuckled emptily. "Message received, Major."

"Hey, just calling it like it is," I said. "You've been mean."

Lovett nodded. "It's tough when he won't say what he's doing. The General, I mean. Hard to believe that was Maes Elric out there. I always thought…I never took him as one with the constitution for this stuff."

She was talking about how he'd handled the battle. She'd seen it. He'd wanted her to see so she'd get off his case.

"You know," she said, "the General's not so candy-coated either, turns out."

"Maes is serious when he needs to be," I said. "I mean, um, General Elric."

Lovett smirked a bit at my mess up. "You seem impressively okay with how he does things. Does he tell you what he's doing, or are you in the dark with the rest of us?"

"I know him enough to trust he knows what he's doing. I wasn't happy about him using Fuery either, but I just had to trust it was best. And, know what? It was."

"What about burying the dead?" said Lovett, and her eyes looked really wet again. "Skipping that and just burning their corpses like a bunch of pagans, how was that best? I've seen what he can do with alchemy. He could've given Mel a grave in seconds, but he burned her instead. He didn't even…" Lovett sniffled. "He worked down the hall from her for years and he didn't even care when she died."

I breathed. I tightened my arm around Lovett's shoulders. "You bet your ass he cared. He's leading, Lovett. You understand? He doesn't get to be emotional when things happen. He's being tough. You don't know what's going on in his head. You don't know why he cremated the dead."

"Do you?" Her voice was pleading, like she really was asking.

Slowly, I nodded. "It was a precaution, Lovett. We don't know much about this enemy. The General was concerned that if we buried the bodies, they would be found and dug up by the enemy. He wanted to protect them."

"Dug up?" Lovett said. Her body tensed. "Why would anyone…?"

"There's a lot of evil in the world," I said.

"He could've just said! I would've listened to that!"

I gripped her shoulder hard. "He wasn't kidding when he said he wasn't interested in your opinion, Collette. He doesn't have time to add a disclaimer every time he does something controversial. Just trust him, dammit. You saw what he did a minute ago. He killed people to protect us. He killed people earlier tonight at the wreck. You want the truth? Maes _doesn't_ have the constitution for this stuff. But he's sucking it up and doing it because he cares about his pathetic little troop. And you're not going to see him complain, so do your best to return the favor, okay?"

Lovett stared at me, unblinking. I chewed my lip. The way her eyes had gotten on the stunned side, I figured I might've spouted off too much. But she smiled a little.

"You kind of sound like you know what you're talking about," she said.

I let out a puff of breath and it fogged in front of me. "Well, dang. I'd hope so."

Her face turned limp again. "Thanks, Mustang. I appreciate the honesty."

We got up together, brushed our butts off like dorks. Some folks were still busy getting artillery off bodies. Maes was over monitoring the handling of the prisoners. As Lovett and I headed over to get her some fresh bullets, Maes caught my eye and we shared a glance. It was quick, but I knew Maes's looks. He was thanking me. I gave him a smile. He looked back at the two prisoners. They were being kept at gunpoint, just as Maes had ordered.

It came to my attention that Bick was calling something to Lt. Karley. Karley called back and then looked to Maes and said something. Maes nodded and said something back and put out his hand. Karley, who'd been one of those holding the prisoners at gunpoint, handed out his gun to Maes. Maes took it fluidly and held it up at the prisoners like second nature, taking Karley's place. Odd, seeing my gentle giant of a hubby with a gun in his hand like it was normal. And then I caught it. It was so slight. For most people, it wouldn't have stood out. But I saw clearly on my Maes. He was holding a gun at a living person. Every inch of him should've been completely focused, completely still. But, in the smallest of moments, I saw Maes's hand quiver. It was over and he was steady again, but I'd seen it.

Maes wasn't a soldier either.

* * *

**Oh, crap. What just happened there? Aside from everything, George shot four people. Like, dude.**

**Replies!**

kingkill567: Yeah, sorry about that. Life's not always a gentleman. This time I'm not leaving you with such a cliffhanger :)

justaislinn: Haha, I reread FL to brush up on the story before I started writing this one. Can't deny it was fun going back to it!

SilverPedals1402: I had a teacher warn our class against EVER including 'fight-scenes' in our writing. He said it was distracting. So I wrote last chapter like, "Oh, crap. I better get this right!"

Evarria: I've done NaNoWriMo before and never finished, but this time I'm, like, actually determined. You should try it. Great way to hold yourself accountable.

KTrevo: I KNO, RITE?!

mivpus: Hahahaha! That's so perfect!

mixmax300: Maes and his special brain. Such a boss and then tells Nina not to kill people with his favorite food. I luv my OC's so much.

Harryswoman: Yes! That's why Mustang made Phil Nina's bodyguard. He was being passive aggressive about the useless thing XD

**See you in December, guys!**


	20. The Agreement, pt 1

**A/N: Ha! Thought I wouldn't make good on my word and update in DECEMBER, didn't ya? Well, it's still December, folks! Yay! Enjoy the chapter! See you in the new year!**

**PS- No replies to reviews today. I got a migraine and I just want bed :(**

* * *

Chapter 20: The Agreement, Part One

We'd marched a ways, under Maes's orders, then stopped where and when he told us to stop. No one had asked questions this time. Maes had erected another fort for the majority of his men to take a breather. Everyone was under strict orders to rest. We'd be on the move again soon enough. A few of us had been left out of that order, though. Falman was one. Frank was another. I was the other. Maes had picked the three of us to stay outside the fort with him and our two prisoners. Interesting enough, Maes had also asked Victor Bagrov to join us. So, here we were. Two prisoners tied up on their knees with Frank's gun aimed at their backs. One of our Drachman representatives standing with Falman's gun to his back. Me standing among them just doing my best not to toss my morning cookies. Maes standing slightly apart from us, looking a little surreal in the purple light of pre-dawn, silent and brooding as ever.

I put my hand on my mouth. "Oh, God. Sorry, guys. Can't fight it anymore."

And, with that, I pivoted away from the scene and heaved up tomato puke into the snow. Ugh, could there be a worse flavor? I knew I shouldn't have eaten earlier, but peer pressure had gotten to me! Dang it. When I turned back around, the men were looking at me with varied expressions of concern and disgust. I noticed Maes more than the others. He'd kept his straight face, but I caught the glint of panic in his eyes. It was a little bit cute and I fought the urge to smile. I wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve and sighed.

"Pardon the interruption, sir," I said. "I think I'm done."

"Right," Maes said. His voice was soft, low. I could tell he was tired. He looked at Victor Bagrov. "Alright, I'm done wasting time. Start talking, Bagrov."

Bagrov's features wrinkled with anxiety and he shook his head. "I told you already, General. Many times. I know nothing!"

"That so?" said Maes. He glanced lazily at the prisoners on their knees. "Your buddies here asked for you by name. So, once again, I'll ask that you start talking."

"I do not know!" said Bagrov. "I never seen these men in my life! Maybe they ask for different Victor Bagrov?"

"We only have one Bagrov in this group," said Maes. "And that's you. What are you mixed up in? Why would a force like this be sent for you?"

"I am just humble diplomat!" said Bagrov. "Do not ask me. Ask them!"

For a moment, Maes's hardened expression pinched to show a hint of displeasure. He took a breath, and I realized with sudden apprehension that Maes had wanted to forgo asking the prisoners for some reason. He looked at the men kneeling on the ground. The leader guy glared up at him like murder. The injured guy breathed fast, shallow breaths. He'd been given some first aid on his shoulder to keep him alive this long, but it was hardly tended. Maes's expression was mostly blank, but his eyes revealed some remorse, and maybe some dread too.

"I suppose I have no choice," said Maes, finally. "Unfortunately for our prisoners, you seem to be telling the truth, Bagrov. Step inside the fort and get some rest. If anyone asks, I gave the order."

Falman looked at Maes with a confused frown as Bagrov happily got the hell outta there, but he didn't question anything aloud. We'd all learned better than to do that. Once Bagrov had shut the fort's door behind him just roughly ten feet away from us, Maes came to stand directly in front of our prisoners. He met the leader's glare and stared back with icy indifference.

"I'm going to tell you how this is going to work," said Maes. "I'm going to give you and your subordinate each a chance to answer my questions willingly as a formality. Once you've each refused, your subordinate will be subjected to torture and he will talk. On the off chance that he dies before he has a chance to talk, you will be subjected to the same torture and you will talk. With that in mind, I will ask you once; who sent you and why do they want Victor Bagrov?"

Holy crap. He was bluffing, right? Because Maes wasn't the torturing type, in my humble yet usually pretty accurate opinion.

"Pathetic," said the leader guy in his gravelly voice. His glaring eyes shone with vicious anger. This guy was a killer. No doubt about it. It was weird just being near him. Scarier than Scar.

Maes looked down at the injured guy, giving him a chance to answer. The injured guy, tired and clearly in pain, smiled through his ragged breaths. "Do your worst," he said. "General."

Maes nodded. He looked up and met my eyes. His gaze seemed detached somewhat, like he wasn't allowing himself to really look at me. He swallowed. "Very well. Major Mustang, one of our prisoners seems to have sustained an injury during battle. Heal it."

My heart dropped, my feet sinking in my boots like the bottom portion of my legs had turned to lead. So, that was it. That's why I was here. That's why we'd captured an injured man. I took in a breath, a mitted hand pressing against my heart on instinct.

"Perhaps," I said, "a trained alkehestrist…"

"I just gave you an order, Major," said Maes. His eyes had taken on a severe quality, his voice sharp like steel. The General Effect. "Heal him. Now."

I wanted to say no. Asking for an alkehestrist had been my passive way of doing just that. I knew exactly what Maes wanted from me. He wanted a way to cheat the idea of torture. He wanted to get the truth out of our prisoners with the mere agony of a Nina-healing. And I'd do it. Slowly, I removed my mittens.

Frank watched me warily as I knelt in front of the injured prisoner. Frank had heard my horror stories about my healings. He knew what was coming too. I met the injured guy's pained gaze. I took a calming breath. This was for the troop, I told myself as I pulled open the guy's clothes and took off the bandages. He winced, gritting his teeth as I uncovered the ugly bullet wound. The wind was cold on my bare hands, and his blood was so hot.

"You going to scare us with alchemy?" said the leader guy with a laugh in his rough voice.

The subordinate laughed with his superior in breathless chuckles. "Bring it on."

This was for the troop, I told myself. This was for the troop and for Maes and for our baby. This was to get information to keep us safe. This was going to bring life.

"I'll give you one last chance," said Maes. "Answer my questions or face the consequences."

The injured guy raised his eyebrows at me. "I'm liking the look of your consequences more and more. Go on. Hurt me."

"Do it, Major," said Maes.

Tears pricked my eyes. With the beating of my heart, life's flow pulsed through me and throbbed under my hand where I'd pressed my palm to the man's wound. Our life forces joined and I forced the rhythm of his flow to match mine. A painfully abrupt shift from a damaged to a perfect circuit; it was like nailing a running man's feet to the floor mid-stride and then forcing him to sprint in the opposite direction with the nails still in his feet. My healings did the job, but they didn't handle with care. They didn't cut corners.

I felt the tattoo on my chest growing hot as the man screamed. He screamed loud, thrashed like I knew he would. I gripped harder as I allowed life's flow to knit the man's shoulder back together in an excruciating sequence of rapid regeneration and detox. It was the first time I'd healed anyone since being prisoner in Xing over three years ago. And, damn, did it suck.

It couldn't have even been more than a matter of seconds before the poor guy had tears running down his face, shrieking, "Stop! Please! Make it stop!" Honestly, the only reason it took him that long to say it was probably because the pain had made it hard for him to get the words out.

Maes's firm hand was on my shoulder and his steady voice said, "Alright. That's enough."

I broke the flow. I broke contact, jerking away my bloodstained hand. The man fell back in the snow, sobbing like a child. I realized at the nipping cold dampness on my face that I'd begun to cry myself. Maes's hand was still steady on my shoulder and his voice echoed in my ear.

"Well done," he said, and I realized he was going out of his way to reassure me. "He'll talk now."

I jabbed my elbow back pretty dang hard, not really thinking it through all that much. It got Maes in the stomach. I could hear him grunting and gasping on a breath like I'd gotten him good. I stood up from the crumpled mess, the subordinate still blubbering from the traumatic healing while his superior tried very hard not to look scared shitless. Frank and Falman were watching the whole thing go down in silent alarm, it seemed. I turned to Maes. He was buckled over on his knees, coughing. I'd done that on purpose, gone for something that would knock the wind out of him. I knew that freaked him out.

"Let's get one thing straight," I said. "I don't tell you good job when you kill people. You don't tell me good job when I have to use healing as a weapon! Do I make myself clear, sir?"

Maes looked up at me. His dulled golden eyes were heavy with remorse and I couldn't help but feel a little bad for taking this out on him. "Understood, Major. Excuse the mistake. It won't happen again." Maes stood, brushing snow off his knees in a casual way that said he was done tending to my emotional needs for now. "Go inside, Major. Get some rest. Looks like you might need it. You're done here."

I paused. _You're done here?_ Was I being excused or was I being pushed out? Was there even a difference at this point?

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

…

Within moments of getting into the dimly lit little fort, Uncle Ed was right next to me, saying, "We need to talk."

I'd dried my eyes pretty good before entering. Didn't want to alarm anyone. I'd held it together nicely so far. I got the feeling evidence of tears could shatter some constitutions. Uncle Ed was my Uncle Ed, though. I had a feeling if we talked long enough, or at all, he'd notice something was wrong. Not to mention, I'd guessed what it was he wanted to talk about, and I wasn't so sure I wanted to get involved.

So I gave Uncle Ed a blanked-out glance and said, "We're under orders to rest."

"I've never been great at doing what I'm told," said Uncle Ed with little humor.

He was serious about this. Crap. Not many people were staring. Most were following orders and had conked out, or at least were in the process of conking out. I caught looks from Mikey and Uncle Al and Sophie. Three people who did not need to hear this conversation. Uncle Ed stood his ground.

I sighed. "I've got a guess about what you want to talk about," I said, hushed. "And the answer is, no. I can't help you. Sorry."

I tried to step around him, but Uncle Ed put a hand on my shoulder and blocked me like I'd hoped he wouldn't. "Listen to me," he said. "If Maes leaving me out of the fight was really about my no-kill rule, he wouldn't have sent Alphonse in. This is about me being a weak alchemist. If I can just figure things out…"

"If my insights haven't restored you to your former glory yet, what makes you think they will under pressure?" I shrugged him off. "I know where you're coming from. You're useless to your son and that's not a new concept for you. It hurts. But he can do this without you, Uncle Ed; just like he's done everything else you came up short on. So, let it go. You and I can talk alchemy and reinvent arrays for hours, but the fact of the matter is, you had your breakthrough the moment you clapped your hands and were able to transmute again. I'm afraid the rest of your problem is more likely psychological than in the science. I can't help you."

Okay, so, I'd kind of cheated there. No, I hadn't exactly helped him, but I had given him a hint, and Maes wouldn't like that. I knew that deep down Maes was thoroughly happy his dad was useless right now. It gave him an excuse to keep Uncle Ed out of it all. In the end, though, I couldn't deny Uncle Ed was on the right track, wanting to beef up his abilities in sudden urgency. Who could say what the days ahead held? We could use every alchemist we had, especially one with Uncle Ed's experience.

Uncle Ed was quiet for a moment before nodding. His eyes narrowed, gaze falling. He'd caught onto what I was saying. I remembered his hand when he'd held that gun earlier, how bad it had shaken. His face afterward had looked a lot like it did now. He nodded again and stepped aside to let me pass.

"Psychological," he said. "Understood. Thank you, Major."

"Get some rest," I said. I patted his arm as I passed him. "You'll need it."

Sophie was sitting against the wall, right next to her sleeping Grandma. Grandma Izumi was snoozing soundly, looking cozy and peaceful with her cheek leaned on Sophie's shoulder. Sophie was no such picture. She was sitting rigid, her bloodshot blue eyes straining forward, wide like a traumatized animal's. She'd cried her makeup off. All of it, though the course of the rough night. She'd taken off her facial piercings to avoid frostbite. Her usually styled hair was a rumpled mess around her pinky face. She looked so normal, so…natural.

I sat next to her on the cold ground. She jumped at my touch as I huddled up next to her, but when she saw it was me, her posture relaxed. She leaned into my ready hug.

"I heard crying outside," she muttered, voice soft and weak with old tears. "When the door opened."

I realized now for the first time how thick Maes had made the walls to this fort compared to last time; with the door closed, we couldn't hear anything going on outside. He'd soundproofed the fort knowing there'd be a need for it. It gave me shudders.

"It was one of the prisoners," I said. "Nothing to worry about."

"This is so messed up," Sophie said. She shook her head. "So messed up, Nina."

"Tell me about it," I said. I sighed shakily. "A minute ago, Maes was talking in my ear about doing a good job or whatever and I swear it was like I was listening to the Gatekeeper. I don't know what the hell happened. I nearly cracked. Well, I guess I kind of did lose it for just a minute there."

Sophie looked at me. "You serious?"

I nodded.

Sophie's brow pinched with confusion. "Of all people, after seeing you handle tonight, I'd expected you to be the last to crack up."

I nodded. "Yep."

"Does Maes know?"

"He saw me lose it," I said. "I didn't tell him about hearing the voice again, though." I looked around, double-checking for eavesdroppers. "Listen, Sophie, I actually wanted to talk to you about this thing. Like, because I've got a theory and stuff. This isn't the first time tonight I've felt myself losing control."

"Nina, if you're having flashbacks again, you need to tell brother. No one wants a repeat of Xing."

I frowned. "We couldn't get a repeat of Xing if we wanted. Those were special circumstances and they've been resolved. I wasn't talking about flashbacks, okay? This isn't like that psychotic stuff back then. I…" My hand clutched the fabric of my coat over my tattoo where the skin was still too warm from earlier. "You've done alchemic tattoos for people besides me, right? What do you know about weird side effects? Like, has anyone ever come back saying the tattoo was getting hot every time they transmuted?"

Sophie frowned. "I told you not to use it until it was completely healed, dammit. If it's infected…"

"No," I said. "No, this isn't warm like an infection. We're talking burning hot. And I haven't been using it. I've only activated the tattoos on my wrists. It's like my life force recognizes there's an unused outlet over my heart and it's trying to break down the door. I don't know."

"Nina," said Sophie. "This is sounding dangerous."

"So, you haven't heard of it before?" I said.

"Hell no," said Sophie. "My tattoos don't endanger my customers. I just did what you told me."

"Crap." I stared at my knees. "Hey, don't worry about it. In all honesty, I don't think this is about the tattoo, so it's nothing you did. I…" I looked around. "I do think I need to use it, though. I've been going through a lot of measures during transmutations lately to keep the flow segregated to my wrist sites, and capping a circuit stronger than your own is where the real danger lies. So, what do you say? Will you make an exception this once and do some alkehestry on my chest?"

Sophie frowned. "Absolutely not."

"Sophie…"

"If you want to activate it so bad, talk to Maes. Get him to stabilize it for you. I'm not responsible for a damn thing."

"But he'll say no," I said. "He will at first. Look, I'm just asking you to heal me. Make sure the matrix is useable."

"Not behind Maes's back."

I rolled my eyes. "I thought you liked doing stuff behind his back."

Sophie's trembling hand gripped my arm tight. "That was before things turned to life and death, Nina. This isn't one of my games. This is real shit!"

I looked around. Sophie had raised her voice just a bit for a moment, but no one was paying any mind. They'd learned to ignore her over the course of the night. I met Sophie's scared eyes and overlapped my hand with hers.

"Sophie, I need this done," I said. "Take it from someone who's never seen this as a game."

"Then ask someone else," said Sophie. She looked away, her eyes shining with tears. "I know you. You'll try to handle this on your own until it's too much to hide anymore. By then, it'll be bad and we'll be asking ourselves why we didn't just tell Maes from the beginning. I mean, I know you think you've got this figured out, but did it occur to you that maybe your tattoo is getting hot during transmutations because your body wants to heal itself? Or maybe it's something else, something that could make activating the matrix the exact opposite of helpful."

"You're doubting me?" I said.

"You were so sure about Amestris being involved in a war," she said. "Some alchemic war with other countries involved. You had me convinced. Then you talked to your dad. One conversation and all your solid theories and your proof just came crashing down. It made so much sense until you put it up next to reality. I know you're good at guessing, Nina, but if you're dealing with something dangerous like your life force, you need to talk to Maes. I'll just end up agreeing with whatever you say like I always do. You need another point of view."

I sucked my lip, frowning. As rattled as Sophie was, she was still her stubborn self. Even worse, she might be right. Maybe.

"Think about the baby, Nina," she said softly. "Is it worth the risk?"

Drat. She was right. My eyes narrowed. "Fine time fore me to be pregnant."

"Wow," said Sophie. "Is this the first time you've had that thought? That's impressive, even for you."

"Well, scratch that." I folded my arms. "I don't mind being pregnant one bit. It's this circumstance I've got myself in that's causing all the trouble. So there."

Sophie leaned her ear on my shoulder and sighed. "So there."

…

I woke to Frank Charlie. He was kneeling in front of me, awkwardly cramped among the sleeping bodies of our comrades. His face was serious in the dim fort. He'd been shaking my shoulder. He stopped a few shakes after my eyes opened.

"General asked that you come outside again," he whispered.

I nodded and slinked away from Sophie. Somewhere along the way, she'd managed to fall asleep too. Frank and I stepped outside together into pure morning light. The sun had risen fully and the light was blinding against the white. Oh, God. Everywhere was white! Our little fort surrounded by snow and mountains and hills and pure nothing. Okay, so maybe hoping Briggs would be in sight once the sun rose was a fool's hope, but I'd still secretly kind of been hoping. We were nowhere!

"Shit," I muttered as my steps sank in the deep snow. "Where in the hell are we?"

"The General estimates somewhere in the western borderlands of Drachma," said Frank. "Prisoners expressed as much during the interrogation. But I'm sure General Elric could explain better if you asked him."

Frank nodded toward where Maes stood. It was surreal. It was almost exactly as I'd left him, it seemed. He and Falman were standing over the kneeling prisoners, Falman's gun aimed at their heads to keep them still. How long had they been like that? Maes caught my eye and almost seemed to read my mind.

"It's been an hour," he said.

"Sir," I said. "I need a private word. Like, now."

Maes nodded. "I'd call that appropriate. Charlie, Falman, monitor the prisoners until we rejoin you."

Frank agreed without arguing, like he always did, but there was something different about the way his eyes were now than when I'd left earlier. The only way I could describe it was they were wider. Like he was taking something in. Falman was staying quiet. So were the prisoners. The way they were hunched over staring at the ground with those dead gazes, looked like zombies to me. Nothing like the defiant glares and grins they'd come with.

Maes and I stepped around the other side of the fort for privacy. As soon as we were out of sight, I had his hand tight.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I mean it. I'm really sorry. I don't know what came over me, but it did and I'm sorry."

"You mean earlier?" said Maes calmly. "I think I deserved what I got, actually. You were right. Healing shouldn't be a weapon and forcing you to use it like I did was cruel. I should be thanking you for going along with it at all. I appreciated the cooperation. We got what we needed and I'm extremely grateful. I know it couldn't have been easy. You're more than just a little accustomed to people taking advantage of your alchemy for their own gain and I can't blame you for being wary about twisting its purposes, even for me. I'm actually rather proud of you."

He gripped my hand back. It was loose, but it was affection. I acknowledged that as a big deal for him right now. He'd been trying pretty hard to keep things as far from personal as he could get them.

"It seems I pushed you to your limits," he said, a bitter smile crossing his lips. "Wouldn't be the first time. God. What did I think would happen? Of course you'd associate inflicting pain via your life force with past traumas. That was the one thing you warned me about. I could use you for anything as long as you didn't start reliving the past. I can be a real dummy sometimes, can't I? All because I had some magic plan to avoid getting my hands dirty. I'm just lucky you were able to snap out of it."

"Hey, now!" I said. "That's not what that was. Just a second there! I told you a thousand times. Xing's not going to repeat itself. I'm not going crazy, okay? Me lashing out an hour ago was different than what happened back then. It wasn't entirely your fault. Just hear me out for a sec. I didn't ask for a private conversation just to save face through a crummy apology, you get me?"

Maes eyed me carefully. "Explain."

"Look, I wasn't going to say anything yet," I said. "But I talked to Sophie and she brought up some good points. I need to be honest with you. You know that tattoo I wanted to get that you told me you didn't want me to get?"

Maes's eyes narrowed. "The one with a lot less control than the ones on your wrists?"

"Um, right." Oh, shoot. This wasn't going to be good. "Well, technically, that was just your theory. I still think I could control it just fine if I activated it. But there's the problem…"

"Nina, you didn't!"

I bit my lip. "Sorry."

He gripped my shoulders, his gaze piercing into mine. "When did this happen?"

"It was a couple weeks back," I said. "You went off on your secret mission and Sophie was babysitting me. She brought her ink along so I just figured…well, I was kind of mad at you for leaving."

Maes's expression darkened. "So, what? You figured you'd get a dangerous tattoo just to spite me? Serves me right for leaving without disclosing highly classified information on my way out? Damn it, Nina!"

"No, I…" Okay, that had been a little bit it, I supposed. "I'm sorry. I'd just found out I was pregnant and I wanted to connect with the baby's life force hands free, that's all. I wanted to synch with our baby's soul just by thinking about it, like I used to do back when my friends from the lab were still connected to my…"

"Nina, no." Maes shook his head in disbelief. "Tell me that's not what you've been doing."

"It's not," I said. "Jeez. I already told you. I haven't activated it yet. It's healing. It'd be dangerous to use without letting it stabilize first. That's my problem."

"You haven't activated it yet?" said Maes, deathly serious.

"No." I frowned. "No, I haven't."

Maes let out a long breath. "Good."

"No, not good," I said, folding my arms. "That's what I keep trying to tell you. My life force recognizes the matrix, Maes. I'm doing all these big transmutations out here and it's taking some effort to isolate them to just my hands. I need to put my soul into these, Maes. That's how they work. That's when I really shine."

"In that case," said Maes, "I forbid you from transmuting at all until further notice. Not so much as a twig."

I blinked. He was kidding, right? "Okay, further notice as in…until next battle?"

"You won't be participating in battle anymore," said Maes. "I'd made that decision before you even got out here."

"You're benching me? No, you're not! I'm your best guy! You can't do this without me! What, are you nuts?"

"I don't have a choice," said Maes. "Listen, Major. I had something to talk about too. After what you just told me, I know I'm making the right call, and you're going to agree with me when you hear my side. At least, you should. You think you can keep your outbursts at bay for five minutes so I can explain?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Are you being condescending with me?"

"It's been a long night," he said. He dragged his hand down his face. "Damn it, Nina. Don't push me. I'm about to get mad and you're the last person I need to be mad at right now."

"Maes?" Something was off about him. The way he was looking at me. He was feeling sorry and freaked. "Are you still feeling bad about making me heal that guy? Because it's fine. I can take a few for the team. I mean, you sure as hell have. That's what's bothering you, isn't it? You're freaking out because you had to kill…"

"I wish it was that simple," Maes said, and by the way his tone lowered, I knew he meant it. Which was weird. Him categorizing the guilt over killing as 'simple.' He was quiet for a moment, just staring at me, still sorry and freaked. "Nina, you've been recognized." He held my gaze. "More accurately, the features your biological mother passed onto you were recognized. We questioned those men for nearly an hour. They weren't looking for Victor Bagrov. They were looking for Anya Bagrov. This mystery enemy we've been facing is just a force of mercenaries hired out by the organization that we were sent to investigate in the first place."

My knees felt weak. I made myself stay standing. I'd heard worse. I'd been through worse than this. "So, what?" I said through gritted teeth. "So what if they're looking for my mom. She's dead. Didn't they get the memo on that?"

"Nina, the members of the organization that had you for the first three years of your life went into hiding the moment they got shut down. They've been isolated. There's a very probable chance that whomever of the original researchers were left never found out what became of Anya Bagrov after she broke you out. Or what happened to you, for that matter."

"You're not making sense." Yes, he was.

"When the train was bombed last night," said Maes, "someone made it back to the enemy. I thought I'd wiped out every threat, but someone from the organization must've been watching from a distance."

"Shut it," I said. I put my finger to my lips sternly. "Dear goodness. Do you even hear yourself? Tell me, how much of this was actually taken from our prisoners' mouths and how much of this is just you guessing around? Because, honestly, my guesses are way better than yours this time, baby."

"Except that I tend to be wrong a lot less often than you do." He said it so simply, like stating the facts. No insult. Just being honest here, baby.

"So, what?" I said. "You're taking me out of the game because you think some jerk from my past mistook me for my mother? Where's the logic in that? We've got an enemy out to to exterminate our whole investigation team, straight down to Emmett and Kelly. The fact that I've been recognized makes me safer! They want Anya alive, right?"

"Why do you think that is?" He frowned. "To catch up on old times? That lab you came out of centered on experimental alchemy, Nina. That's all these people want Anya Bagrov for. Experimental alchemy. So, tell me. What do you think's going to happen when we face these guys in battle and they catch a glimpse of Miss Anya's look-alike transmuting the life force right out of the earth?"

"They won't last long enough to do much," I said.

"I don't understand you," he said. "All night, I've been doing one crazy thing after anther and you've trusted me to the last hair. I've thought this through from every angle! You're going to question me now? You're in danger, Nina! Damn it. That's just like you. You know just what buttons to press."

"Yeah, I decided to play the skeptic just to get on your nerves, Maes. Let's go with that."

"This is serious!"

"Damn right it is!" My fists clenched at my sides. "You're freaking out because the old lab's out to get me. I'm telling you that it doesn't matter! If you take me out of the game, then we're all dead anyway! You think I don't know what we're dealing with? You think I underestimate these guys for a second? If anyone's being an idiot here, it's you! Dammit, Maes! I've been straining myself so bad holding back tonight that I thought I heard the Gatekeeper to the Truth talking in my ear! That's why I shoved you after I healed that guy! You were talking with the Gatekeeper's voice! I can't keep doing this to myself! I can't keep holding back like some kind of dam! That's not how my alchemy works!"

Maes had blanched. Absolutely pale. His breath fogged the air in soft, quick puffs. "You heard the Truth talking to you?" He swallowed. "What did it say?"

"Nothing!" I said. "It said what you said. It was a delusion brought on by stress and exhaustion. That's what I'm trying to tell you!"

"Tell me now," said Maes. "What did you hear the voice say? I want it word for word!"

"_Well done; he'll talk now_," I said. "That's what 'the voice' said. Your words, the Truth-guy's voice. I'd just healed someone for the first time in three years and I had to do it with my circuit curbing itself from activating the unstable tattoo on my chest. Believe it or not, complicating transmutations like that gets exhausting, and, dang it! I'm just trying to avoid a rebound at this point! Maes…"

He shook his head. "Is this the first time you've heard someone speak with the Gatekeeper's voice tonight?"

"Yes!"

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"But your other large-scale transmutations since the wreck," he said. "They've exhausted you similarly? A disturbance in the flow? Like you're being drained?"

I found myself pausing. "Yeah. Um…that's actually pretty spot-on. How'd you…?"

"Because that's exactly how you described losing your life force in Xing three years back."

"Maes, Xing is over!"

Maes pinched the bridge of his nose like my voice was giving him a headache. His breath was panicked. "I'm such a fool," he muttered absently. "Why'd I think bringing you on this investigation was a good idea? I should've seen this coming a mile away. Now we're murdering our way out of Drachma with thirty less than able soldier-wannabes and I'm still puzzling out what the hell's going on. This is bad. Why didn't I wait? Got so wrapped up in all those kids stuck in the labs waiting to be rescued; I didn't even stop to think about what would happen if…Damn it! What is wrong with me? I always think! What didn't I see? What the hell did I miss? I…"

I interrupted Maes's little meltdown with a swift smack in the face. It wasn't hard or anything. Not enough to leave a mark even, with my warm mitten absorbing a lot of the force. Still, it was enough to wake him up. He looked down at me, blinking like he'd just remembered I was there.

"Guess I needed that," he said, finally.

"Yeah, just a little." I forced a smile, because this was usually the part where I smiled. "Xing's over, baby. You know that, right?"

He was quiet.

"I thought we'd gotten over this," I said.

"You lost your mind. I watched you die," he said. "I'm not going to get over it."

I breathed. I put my arms out to him and pulled him into a hug so his chin was sitting on the top of my head and we couldn't see each other's pale faces. "Xing happened the way it did because I was using dirty alchemy. I was using souls over there. Doesn't matter that they were willing. It was twisted and just really not meant for one tiny human to be messing with. It's over now. My life force is normal and that's not going to change. Ever. The alchemy I use now isn't twisted or complicated like Xing. It's as simple as breathing and it's not going to hurt me. I know you're worried about a repeat. I know you're worried about me standing out now that I've been recognized. But, Maes, this army needs me. You need what I can do. I need to be able to protect our baby without worrying about complications in my circuit. The only thing about the alchemy I use now that could ever hurt me is trying to twist it into something it's not. I need to transmute without holding back, and I can't do that if I'm putting half my power into keeping an otherwise harmless transmutation circle from activating."

"You make it sound simple."

"It is simple." I frowned. "It gets hot when I transmute, Maes. It's like my circuit recognizes the matrix and wants me to use it."

His arms tightened around me. "Since when do you make a habit of listening to your body?"

"Since I found out I was preggers with your baby, loser."

"Well, this is obviously my fault," he said.

"Obviously," I said.

I could feel his breath on my hair as he nuzzled me. "You realize how dangerous this sounds? An unknown like this? You're pregnant with an unstable matrix over your heart that gets hot when you transmute? We're talking about the special heart-matrix you wanted for direct access to your life force. Direct access to your soul! The thing keeping you and our baby alive is directly linked to that matrix, Nina. You think activating it is a good idea? Why? Because you have a feeling it's what your soul wants? I'm sorry, but no. I need some science in this emotional psychobabble trip. I don't care how sure you are. All I'm hearing is a list of symptoms indicating unstable transmutations and then a lot of passionate nothing telling you to push your limits like you always do."

"Like I always do?" I pushed out of him arms. "You serious? You're relating this to Xing again! That's over, Maes! You going to jeopardize my safety and the safety of everyone else because you can't get over what happened way back when? Damn it! I was _right_ during Xing! I was the one who got us out alive. Don't forget that bit, genius!"

"I seem to remember you going by a plan that involved getting everyone out alive but you!" He was in my face now, towering like a skinny blond monster. "You died, Nina! You waking up after all that was a fluke at best. Don't give yourself too much credit!"

"Well, at least I did something!" I poked him hard in the chest. "Your plan was to just wait it out and die as one big happy family. You knew full well I could get you and my parents out safely, but you were too scared of losing me to try. You want to tell me you can't trust me because I've prioritized above myself in the past? Well, fine! Because at least I'm not some self-sacrificing dumbass who's willing to let everyone else die with him just so he doesn't have to live with the fear of losing anyone!"

Maes faltered back a couple steps. I panted, the hot rage fogging my breath in front of me like smoke out of a dragon. By the wet shine in Maes's glaring eyes, I sort of realized I might have gone too far. But Maes kept up the angry front same as me.

"I am your commanding officer," he said. "And I am ordering you not to transmute again as long as we are out here."

"And I'll follow that order," I said. "Until the moment you and your big brain full of alternate plans comes up short. Then I'll disobey orders. And when I do, I'm going to be wishing you'd healed my tattoo the rest of the way like I asked, because if anything goes wrong to hurt me or the baby, it's going to be because the matrix was never stabilized. The end."

"Dammit, Nina!" he said. "If you were a guy, I'd punch you in the face!"

"A pregnant guy would just be weird."

"Why do I love you? I hate you! I hate you and all your stupid logic and just…" He growled. "Screw all of this! Open your damn coat. I'll heal the freaking tattoo. Damn it! I hate you!"

"Yeah, fine! I'll open my damn coat! Freaking child!"

While I tore at my buttons and my uniform, Maes tugged at and jingled his stupid fancy gloves.

"So stupid!" he snarled. "I told you not to do it and then you did it anyway just to get at me and now I'm freaking healing it for you! Just cleaning up your messes, huh?"

"Yeah, guess so!" I pulled my shirt open for him, revealing the pinked, slightly raw surface of my new tattoo. "Dig in, baby!"

"Yeah, fine!" Maes smacked his hand right over the circle, his gaze hot with anger. It stung. His glove glowed and I felt his touch easing the discomfort immediately. He swung his other arm around my waist so he was gripping the small of my back. "Hey, while I'm cleaning up your messes, how about I do your back too? I'm sure it's gotten sore again by now!"

"Yeah, that'd be great!" I said, glaring right back. "I appreciate the help!"

"I'm happy to give it!"

"Good!" I said.

"You bet it is!" he said. "You need all the help you can get!"

"I hate that you don't trust me!" I said. "I hate it! I hate that you always trust yourself over me!"

"Oh, like you're any different!"

"Hell yeah I am!" I said. "I'm so used to being wrong, it's insane! I always hear you out! I take your word for all kinds of shit! But sometimes _I_ know what I'm talking about, Maes! Sometimes I know!" I got up in his face again, nearly nose to nose. "And I know you! I know when to trust your judgment over mine and I know when you're just making calls because you're scared of what might happen the second you give someone else control!"

"Shut up!" he shouted. He pressed his forehead against mine, hugging me tight. I could smell the traces of smoke and gunpowder in his uniform and in his hair. I could smell old blood, too. "God! Damn it all! Why can't you just let me protect you like everyone else?"

"Because you can't protect everyone, Maes!"

I felt his hot tears dripping onto my face. "Yes," he muttered. "Yes, I can. But you have to let me."

I patted his back. "You're just one man."

"If you just let me…" he said, voice trembling. "Just do what I say. Everything will be fine."

"Just one guy, Maes."

"Nothing will stop me from getting all of you home alive." His body quaked with a sob. "Nothing! I've taken lives to keep you all safe!"

"You're still just one man."

"No."

"Just one guy," I said gently. "With a lot of decisions to make. And some of those decisions are going to have outcomes that are out of your control. And some of those outcomes may end up hurting the people you want to protect."

"Nina…"

"And some of those decisions may end up saving us." I clung tight to him. "But if you make decisions solely based on what you can control, then we will all get hurt. Because you're just one man, and your spectrum of control will never be wide enough to save us. Not even you, baby." I patted his back as he sobbed quietly into my hair. "The only thing that is certain here is pain. The rest is up to chance. It's your job to decide what chances to take, because if you don't, we die. I'm sorry, but that's it."

"You," he muttered through his sobbing breaths. "You should be in charge."

"No," I said. "You're the one that's going to get us home and you know it. You're not alone. I…"

My voice got trapped in my throat. Past Maes's tall form, I caught a glimpse of Frank standing just a few feet away. He seemed to be frozen in place, his usual dark, severe eyes staring. His sharp features were stone. He was just standing there, mouth slightly open, gun in hand like he'd expected to find danger on this side of the fort. And then the chill of the wind reminded me.

Maes had one of his hands buried in my chest.

"This isn't what it looks like, Frankie," I said. "He was just…"

"We heard yelling," said Frank quickly. His eyes darted to the side. "Then it got quiet so suddenly. Brigadier General Falman asked me to check on you, but it seems we were worried for nothing. Please, excuse the interruption, General Elric. I'll be going back to my post."

Maes's voice smoothed from the recent tears. "See that you do, Lieutenant Colonel. Inform Falman that we will be rejoining you shortly."

"Yes, sir," said Frank. And he got out of there quicker than I'd ever seen the guy move.

Maes's body quaked against me and I wondered if he'd started crying again. But one look at his face said it all. He was fighting laughter.

I rolled my eyes. "Nice save there," I said. "General."

"Poor guy," said Maes. "Just doing his job." He slipped his hands off me and pulled my clothes together in an almost paternal way. "Okay, Mrs. Elric. That should do you just fine for now." He buttoned my coat to the collar. He patted my arm. "Take it easy, okay?"

"I'll hitch a ride with Phil," I said. "Baldy's been itching to carry me since we set out."

Maes nodded. He looked at the pale sky. "Could probably say the same for half the troop, if we're being honest. As much as you've proven yourself useful, _Baldy_ and I can't be the only ones who are concerned about you." He looked at me. "You're pregnant on a battlefield. Can't Nina-logic your way out of that one."

"You always need something to complain about."

He raised his eyebrows, touching my arm. "Hey, just because I buckled about healing you doesn't mean you have any okays yet. I meant what I said about you being under orders. Stable or not, that tattoo is not to be activated unless my big brain comes up short, as you so delicately put it. I got your word on that. I expect you to honor it."

I rolled my eyes to the side. Classic Maes. "So, instead of getting over the whole 'protecting everyone all by your lonesome' thing, you've decided to channel it into something else just as unrealistic, not to mention unhealthy. Seriously? I should've known you calmed down too fast. Now you'll be spending the entire march outta here wasting all your precious time and energy trying to make sure I never have reason to step in. That's about right?"

"You gave me incentive to strive for efficiency," he said. "I see nothing unrealistic or unhealthy about it."

"You know you're not fooling anyone," I said.

"Actually, I'm fooling everyone."

Everyone but me. That's what he meant. So freaking smug. He knew this conversation was over. I'd gotten him to heal me and we didn't have time for a freaking therapy session. I'd already made the poor guy cry. We were due back with Frank and Falman.

"You're a butthead," I said. I frowned. I folded my arms over my chest. "A real big butthead."

"Not the worst thing you've called me."

"I went for accuracy over severity this time around."

His eyes sank. He was quiet for a moment. "Look," he muttered. "I understand what you're saying. I aim high, not wanting to risk much to get a lot. But you need to let me try. I healed you just in case, but I want it to stay 'just in case,' understand? Just let me try." He met my eyes. "You have my permission to step in the moment my plans fail. Until then, you stay out of it. You and the baby stay safe. Is that something you can agree to?"

"Your plans failing, huh?" I frowned. "Yeah, whatever."

I didn't press it. He could've been more specific about what qualified as his 'plans failing,' which meant he was leaving it to me to be the judge. He was leaving it up to me to decide when to step in. Could be good or very bad. Good because he was maybe letting go of that inkling of control. Very bad because it maybe meant he'd be trying extra hard to keep me thinking everything was under control when it really wasn't. But I'd have to take what I could get. For now.

I hooked my arm with his. "Let's go."

He unhooked his arm from mine fluidly, sidestepping to put a good stride between us. His expression fresh and flat and free of the earlier tears, he nodded in his serious way that said our window of being chummy had come to an abrupt end. "Agreed, Major."

I sighed.

* * *

**This chapter gets a part two because it's just fitting. Stuff got started that wasn't resolved ;) Maes and Nina took up a lot of words with their fight, haha (which, btw, was surprisingly fun to write). So, be looking forward to that update. Whenever that may be... My life's been hectic and I have other things to work on updating (you know...) so it may be a while. We'll see! Until then, God bless and have a great 2015!**


	21. The Agreement, pt 2

**A/N: Ummm... So, this chapter's a little dialogue-heavy, but it's necessary. Don't worry. Things will pick up from here!**

**Hope everyone had happy holidays! I turned 22 during the holidays, guys, and two is my absolute favorite number (because it's even and prime and beautiful!), so two twos right next to each other as my age makes me really excited! Yeah, I'm a dork...**

**PS- I had a reviewer on chapter 19 ask if Nina can still create flames with a snap. The answer is, yeah, she can. Her fingertips are still flammable, so she can produce. Without all her Gate-knowledge, though, she's got zilch control over it. Think of her as a giant lighter. It's kind of become a useless skill on her part. Aside from destroying birth control pills on impulse, of course :P**

* * *

Chapter 21: The Agreement, part two

Maes and I rounded the fort together, me keeping just a little bit behind him in that subordinate way I usually didn't abide by at work. Falman and Frank were standing over our prisoners like we'd left them, like nothing had happened. Dang, those prisoners were like zombies. Kneeling in the snow and staring blankly down like the cold wasn't an issue after an hour of being just like that. A lump built in my throat as we came to stop in front of them. Oh, shoot. What now? We'd gotten what we needed out of them. So, what? We couldn't just let them go, and there was no bringing them with us. Just nope. I bit my lip. I was about to get sent inside again so the prisoners could be disposed of without me witnessing; I was just sure of it. Oh, crap. Those zombie-prisoners were going to die and Maes…

"Falman," Maes said, "walk the prisoners out thirty meters past those hills and leave them. They're not our problem anymore."

"Sir," said Falman.

Needless to say, I was a little utterly shocked at how cooperative Falman was being with this particular order. Mostly because it was a stupid order. I looked at Maes and his unchanging expression. The zombie-prisoners were surprisingly silent as Falman jerked them to their feet. Like compliant little ragdolls. Was a Nina-healing really that shattering?

"General," I said. "Sir, you're letting them go?" I winced, a sudden afterthought hitting me hard that maybe 'leave them' was code for, 'kill them violently where my wife can't see you doing it.' But Maes met my eyes with apathy that said if I'd struck a chord, it wasn't enough of one for him to show it.

"We're soldiers," said Maes. "Not executioners."

"I…see." I didn't see.

"It's not your concern, Major," said Maes. He looked out at the empty expanse of snow. "We'll march again soon. I want to seize the warmer hours of the day."

"Sir, you haven't slept," said Frank in a low, cautious tone. Not his regular way.

"That's not your concern," said Maes without even acknowledging the statement enough to meet Frank's eyes.

"We've all slept," said Frank. "But you."

"You're pressing the issue," said Maes. "Which, in your case, must mean you have legitimate concern, likely to do with my capability at leadership." Oh, brother.

"No, sir," said Frank. "More to do with your body's capability to keep up with your own will."

I felt sort of like a third-wheel, just standing there in our triangle saying nothing. I sucked my lip. Frank had a point.

Maes's eyes narrowed and he met Frank's gaze. "And you'd be the better judge of that, Lt. Colonel Charlie?"

Frank's expression was stone. "You tell me," he said, "sir."

This wasn't like Frank. Challenging anything Maes said or did, especially after being shot down already. This wasn't like the General Effect, to be letting Frank get at him. Which meant Maes saw a point to it. Or he was getting weaker. Which made sense after our shouting match just minutes earlier.

Maes stepped forward, narrowing the gap between him and Frank to less than a pace. Standing tall, Maes seemed to leer over Frank by the sheer power of his stance, his own height not exceeding Frank's by a significant margin on its own. His expression was calm like Frankie's, but his gold eyes darkened with undertones of anger that gave his stare a merciless quality. Scary on my gentle-by-nature husband, but hardly unexpected at this point.

"I am currently accountable for the safety of more than thirty human lives," said Maes like ice. "If you want to help, worry about yourself. Worry about your comrades. Worry about getting home alive. Do not worry about me. That's backwards."

"With all due respect, sir," Frank said, "you lose it out there and we're all dead." He glanced at me before shooting his gaze back to Maes. "It's none of my business how you want to blow off stress between battles, but you need to find a way to calm down and sleep every once in a while. You're so amped up right now, I can practically see it coming off you. Take a breather, sir. That straight face only fools most of us."

Maes's eyes flashed with some non-descript emotion that I interrupted before it had time to surface. I stepped forward and poked Frank hard in the arm.

"I told you, pansy!" I said. "It wasn't what it looked like. The General's not stressed about anything."

It was a stupid thing to say. I knew it was pretty irrelevant to Frank's point, his very valid point, but I knew Maes. If he wasn't sleeping, it was for a reason, and the only reasons I could figure were he felt the need to keep alert for our safety or he was afraid to shut his eyes and risk nightmares. He'd had a small history with those over the years. In either case, Frank was stepping on dangerous ground.

Maes seized the opportune window of silence to snag the conversation back into a direction he was comfortable with. "In a moment, Major Braddock will lead in transmuting the next round of rations for the men…"

"Sir," Frank started.

I grabbed Frank's arm tight and spoke over him, "General, permission to have a private word with Frankie, sir!"

Maes blinked at me.

I shrugged. "For the sake of mediation and dumb shit like that, sir."

Maes quirked a brow. "You're dismissing me?"

"Pretty much, sir," I said. "You've got orders on rations for the folks inside, right? We'll give you a minute with them."

Frank's arm was stiff in my grip, but I held on. After a moment of looking at the two of us, Maes nodded and said, "Granted."

I nodded back, "Awesome." I cleared my throat at Maes's frown. "I mean, _yes sir_!"

Maes headed off, compliant compared to the bristly attitude he'd taken toward Frank telling him what to do. But this was different. Maes knew me well enough to figure out I wasn't challenging him this time. Honestly, he was probably glad to dismiss himself for a moment. Frank didn't look so happy about it, though.

Maes looked over his shoulder at me one last time before entering the fort. "Major Mustang."

"Yes, sir?" I said.

"Nothing classified," Maes said. "Understood?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

Maes went inside. I let out a long sigh and released Frank's arm. Frank sidestepped from me with a cold frown. He brushed off his arm where I'd held on like I'd left residue.

"Major Mustang," Frank said. "I understand that you have personal affiliation with the General, but to interfere while two superior officers are…"

"Shut up," I said. My eyes drifted around the snowy, lumpy, mountain-covered expanse around us. Maes had instructed Falman to lead the prisoners thirty meters past the nearest clump of hills. That really wasn't all that far, but for Maes to say something specific like thirty meters, there had to be significance. I couldn't see them anymore, what with Falman taking them through the hills instead of staying on the open ground. A stupid move for him to be making on his own, even with the two prisoners restrained. "So," I said. "Frank, you going to tell me why Maes let them go?"

I looked up at Frank and he was glaring at me. It was that ticked-off kind of glare Maes would give me when I'd 'accidentally' forget to buy corn at the supermarket. I shrugged like an involuntary reflex, my typical reaction to that kind of face.

"The General let them go," said Frank, "because the General couldn't handle the idea of killing captured men."

I sighed. "Typical Maes."

"Not at all," said Frank. "If Maes Elric is anything, it's decisive. This is stupid."

I blinked. I sucked my lip. Frank. Frank Charlie. He'd just called Maes…stupid?

Frank shot me a glance. His frown deepened and his eyes darted back to the fort. "You saw them, didn't you? The prisoners? They looked like the walking dead."

"Traumatized, I guess."

Frank scoffed. "They weren't traumatized. They were brainwashed. After they talked, Falman said something about 'taking care' of them and General Elric just snapped. You could see it in his eyes. He grabbed the prisoners between the eyes and did some of that alchemy on them. He said he was destroying their memories so killing them wouldn't be necessary. After that, I'm surprised they could even walk. There's no way they'll survive out here, not long enough for any of their buddies to find them. Even if they do get found, they're no use to the enemy now. They'll be shot by their own people. It all comes down to the General going through a hell of a lot of trouble to avoid killing two men directly, so he's killing them indirectly instead. And for what? A fragile conscience? A little late for that."

"Brain damage, huh?" I folded my arms and shivered. "That's a little cruel. Still, I get where he's coming from. Shooting people already shooting at you is one thing, but to kill someone unarmed and restrained?"

"It may not be the most glorifying option," said Frank. "But when considering what's at stake, it should've been an easy decision. The General did what he did for himself and no one else. The drastic shift between ruthless on the field to irrationally, irresponsibly merciful is dangerous. We can't afford for him to use these first twenty-four hours out here as his own personal training ground to test what kind of leader he wants to be. He's already promised his men he's going to bring each one back alive while some are already barely hanging on. The more I watch him, the more I realize he believes he can do it, too. The number of variables against us is ridiculous and I can see him trying to hold onto every one of them at once." Frank looked at me. "And here you are, helping him do just that."

"Wow," I said, placing a hand over my mouth. "That was so freaking insightful. I mean, jeez, Frank. Maes? Control issues? In the over two flipping years I've been flipping married to the guy, I never would've flipping guessed that. Flip! Tell me more."

"You're going to play the _wife_ card?" Frank said. "Now? There's no place for pride out here! I'll be the first to admit it the moment I'm proven wrong, but General Elric's behavior toward the situation is taking a less than favorable turn, and I won't shy from confronting him about it to spare his or anyone else's feelings. Damn it all. He needs sleep!"

"He needs your support," I said. "He respects you, Frank. You get that? He pretty much stated it to the entire troop that if things go south for him, he's leaving it to you of all people to get us home. He trusts you to protect me and his daddy and his sister and grandma and his uncle and Georgie and just…" I put a hand on my tummy, "and just all of us. He trusts you so darn much, Frank. He trusts your level freaking head more than he trust's his own dad's. Maes doesn't need you pointing out when he's slipping, Frank. Let that be my job, okay? I get what you're saying. He does need sleep. He does. But he doesn't need _you_ telling him that. Please, just shut the hell up. I already made him cry a couple times and…" I ran a clumsy hand through my windblown bangs and bit back the prick of tears on my eyes. "Jeez, Frank. You pansy. I know he's cracking. Just leave it, okay? He's fine. We just have to make it out of here and then he can go to a therapist or something. He'll be okay. Just leave it be."

"Just have to make it out of here," said Frank. "And how long is that going to be, do you figure?"

"I don't know. I…" My eyes sat numb on the endless snow. "A few days, tops. I guess. Maybe." Oh, crap.

"Try a few weeks," said Frank. "You see the terrain we're crossing, Mustang? You see the people you're crossing it with? Maybe if we were Briggs guys it'd be different. Maybe if we weren't being pursued. But things are the way they are. With the shape we're in after the first night, there's no telling how long it's going to take us to get out of this mess and back to civilization. The General's got some guesses about our exact whereabouts, but that's all we got. Guesses."

Weeks? Weeks, he said? Ha! No, no, no. That wasn't happening. That was just terrible to think about. George would run out of toes to lose and Maes…

"Oh, God." I shook my head. "You idiots didn't even ask the prisoners for directions, did you?"

"What?" said Frank.

"Directions!" I said. "Dang it, Frankie! These guys tailed us so good it's insane! Clearly they know the territory better than we do. You said Maes has _guesses_ on our whereabouts? During the interrogation, did any of you three boneheads even once open your dumb mouths to ask our good prisoners for directions on how to get the hell out of the tundra?"

Frank's gaze dropped like he was rethinking stuff. "Well…not in so many words. General Elric seemed to get a relatively clear idea just by what they did say, though. Enough to make some good guesses."

"Let me get this straight. You could've had these prisoner guys tell you where we were and how to get out in a few words, but you decided to infer our location from what they were saying about other stuff instead?" I sighed a harsh breath. "Dear goodness. I can't believe this. It all boils down to my pansy of a husband couldn't bring himself to ask for directions? You're idiots! _Weeks_, Frank!"

"It's not that simple, Major," Frank said. "Look, half the stuff Elric said during that interrogation didn't mean dip to me, but whatever it was about, I can guarantee it went higher on his priority list than getting directions. I'm sure he's figured out how we're getting home if he didn't see fit to ask the prisoners. I apologize for implying otherwise. I was out of line."

"_Weeks_, Frank!"

"I know," he said. He sighed, running his palm over his face. "I know. It doesn't look good."

"When the other men find out about this," I said, "we'll be lucky not to have deserters."

"We won't have a problem with the other men," Frank said, like saying it would make it true. "So long as the General holds up integrity as their leader."

"You've thought about this?"

Frank nodded. "Who wouldn't? We've been out here twelve hours and already had enough statements of insubordination from Lovett to merit a court martial. With Elric's apparent display on the battlefield, we've finally got the troop on stable terms with him, but if he slips up, Mustang, things could be bad. This is going to be a marathon, not a sprint. I'll be the first to say that General Elric is a great man, but he's not equipped to lead soldiers through a war. I understand what you're saying about him needing support over criticism, but, if you want my honest opinion on this, the man needs guidance; outside his own head. I get that his brain works differently than the rest of us and we don't have the time for him to explain everything, but he can't use that as an excuse to treat us like sheep. He's got some capable men and women under his command. He can afford to distribute some of that authority he's trying to shoulder. That's how the Amestrian military usually does things when it comes to this kind of scenario. We have team leaders under the General for a reason. He's got to use us or he'll burn out. We all will."

"That," I said, "is a good point."

Frank shrugged. "Our country's been through enough wars to know what works and what doesn't."

"Right," I said. "Right."

Yes, Frank was right. Maes was the team's coach and he had a bunch of captains at his disposal; he needed to start doling out plays. Getting him to agree to that, I knew, would be no easy matter, but we'd do what we could. There was no telling how long Maes would have the choice, if we were facing reality. In my opinion, he was already burnt out.

"Frank," I said. "You've been looking at me differently since the interrogation happened. Be honest. You figured some things out, didn't you?"

Frank paused. Stuffing his hands in his coat pockets, he looked at the fort door with a flat gaze and said, "Did General Elric specify whether he planned on rejoining us out here after checking on the others? Maybe he expects us to join him inside."

"You totally just dodged the question!"

"Yes, I did." Frank looked in the other direction, out at the snowy hills Falman had disappeared behind with the prisoners. "Brigadier General Falman is taking a while. Stands to reason, though. He hasn't gotten much more sleep than the General since the crash, and the man may be experienced, but he's not exactly young. I'm sure he's tired and his strides are beginning to show it."

"Frank Charlie!" I said, hand on my hips. "Evasion is hardly your style! Just what do you know?" I didn't want to admit it, but emotion was already coloring my voice. Emotion besides mock irritability. I was getting nervous. "Frankie?"

"What's the problem?" Maes said, suddenly appearing at the doorway. His voice made me jump.

Frank didn't look so surprised. It was liked he'd expected Maes to jump in at any moment. Now he was just acknowledging Maes's presence with a salute as Maes stared him down with a gaze that was almost accusing, that protective look that told me maybe I appeared bothered and Maes wasn't happy about it. Maes shut the fort door behind him and strode to us, standing just a little apart with his arms folded.

"Major Mustang," Maes said, regarding me, "I trust things have sorted themselves out? Charlie was cooperative with your attempt at mediation?"

"Sir," I said. I sucked my lip. I took a breath. "Sir, I'd like to make a request!"

They blinked at me.

Maes's brow knit slightly. "Go on," he said.

I took another breath, a solid breath, and spoke. This was a long time in the making. With the new developments, may as well be now. "Sir, I request that Lt. Colonel Frank Charlie be promoted to red-level clearance for the duration of this mission."

Maes stared at me flatly, his jaw setting just a little tighter. I raised my eyebrows at him and nodded. Maes frowned. I nodded again. Frank seemed a little confused by our silent exchange, but said nothing.

"Unnecessary," was the only word Maes bothered saying.

"Maybe so," I said. "But he heard the interrogation, yes? So he knows something's up. Just fill in the gaps."

"The last thing to do at this point," said Maes firmly, "is to involve more people."

"I think he's already figured out more than you realize," I said. "Sir."

Maes looked at Frank with the hint of a question in his eyes. Frank didn't say a thing.

I sucked my lip. "He's been looking at me different since I got out here, General," I said. "_That_ look. He's figured stuff out. He's just waiting for you to tell him yourself so he can quit pretending he doesn't know." I gave Frank a feeble smile. "Isn't that right, Frankincense?"

Frank was quiet for a moment before saying in his mechanical way, "I have no intention of involving myself past my clearance, Major. One doesn't merit a promotion to red-level based on personal observation."

"See?" I said, gesturing dramatically to Frank. "He totally knows!"

"Red-level clearance comes straight from the Fuhrer," said Maes. "In spite of what you think Charlie already knows, it is not your or my place to disclose anything beyond orange-level formally. That's where I stand, Major. End of discussion."

A hint of anger-slash-betrayal bubbled up in my stomach. I gripped Maes's arm at the elbow with a glare. "No, not end of discussion. Try again. He's a sharp guy, Maes. He's been working with us for three years and he was bound to pick up on things eventually. If he knows about me, I want to know about it. You got me? We always said he'd be a good guy to trust if my stuff got leaked to the military or something. Well, it's one of those _or something_ moments, honey."

"And I said no," Maes said, voice lowering. He turned to face me only, kind of butting Frank out of the conversation entirely. "I can't keep you safe if I don't keep the cards in my hand, Nina. Don't you complicate things over another hunch."

"I don't need to be kept safe!" I stepped back, positioning Frank back into our triangle. "And _keeping everything in your hand _is hardly my goal. I already made it pretty clear where I stand on that."

"I don't need a higher clearance to do my job," Frank said.

"And I don't need help doing mine," said Maes.

"Um, actually…" Falman's kind of meek tone chimed in. All our heads turned, almost comically, to see him coming over, retracing his steps back to us. He gave a salute that ended in a small wave. He spoke before Maes could even open his mouth again. "I'd have to disagree with all three of you. Sorry. Couldn't help but overhear."

Maes pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a harsh breath. "Fine. I don't need to be agreed with to do my job either."

"That's true," said Falman. "But if you think you're going to pull this off without help, you're deluding yourself. You too, Major Mustang. You may not like it, but, fact is, your safety is a concern. And Lt. Col. Charlie, whether _you_ like it or not, you happen to be one of the more dependable officers in this company. If you really plan on being any help, the sooner you get filled in, the better. We're not getting anywhere focusing all our time and energy trying to keep each other out of it. Not to sound corny, but let's try working together on this, huh, kids?"

Holy crap. He was like some amazing camp counselor or something! Frank seemed to be a little taken aback at the insubordination in Falman's statement, mouthing the words, 'Kids?' under his foggy breath. Maes's mouth turned down, strikingly similar to a told-off child, I thought to myself. I giggled into my hand.

"Corny, huh?" I said, arching a brow at Maes.

Maes turned his gaze from me like he pretty much didn't like the joke. "Does anyone else have anything they'd care to share about what I'm doing wrong thus far?"

"This isn't really the best time to be taking things personally, either," said Falman with a squinty-eyed half-smile. He breached a level of etiquette by putting a hand on Maes's shoulder, but Maes allowed it like it wasn't even there. "I'll be the first to say I'm not a natural leader; there's a reason I never made it past brigadier general. You've got me beat by a long shot on that, sir, but you're shy on other things, things like experience and training. I know you're smart and pick things up fast, but three years in the military research division doesn't quite prepare for what this particular road holds. That's why you have a team to begin with. You know. You hand-picked us to fill in for the areas you lacked."

"That was for a research team," Maes said. "This is a little different."

"A good, varied team is flexible," said Falman. "No matter what the situation. I think you know that too."

The mask of disapproval on Maes's face melted just enough to reveal the slack hint of insecurity in his expression. His brow creased and he looked away, from all of us. "Falman, I appreciate your input. All of you have made valid points. I don't doubt you may be right. But understand. If I start handing out responsibility, if just one of you comes up short at the wrong moment, people could die."

"Sir," said Falman. "People are going to die."

Maes's frown crumpled. With a deep breath, he hardened his expression before it could show too much. After a moment of quiet where Maes just stared at the snow with dull, still eyes and Frank gave me a look that said, 'Did we break him or something?' and Falman stood all patient and junk, Maes nodded and met my eyes.

"I'll be honest," he said. "I'm so tired right now, I could pass out."

I shrugged. "Well, duh."

He smiled slightly, but it didn't reach his eyes. He looked at Falman. "Since their last defeat, our enemy seems to be regrouping themselves, from what my transmutations can detect. We have time. I'll leave it to you to arrange a capable lookout. I need sleep."

"Yes, sir," said Falman with a satisfied, squinty-eyed smile.

Maes looked at Frank now. "And you. You're not completely spent, are you?"

"I'm good on my feet, sir," said Frank with a nod.

"Good," said Maes. "Then you and my wife can have a chat." Maes caught my eye. "Red-level is more your territory than mine, Nina. Tell Charlie what you need to, but do it out of earshot of the others. We're not ready for this to spread."

My heart leapt with pride. My Maes. Cooperating. "Yes, sir!"

"And, Charlie?" said Maes. "If she has any trouble explaining, starts panicking or just anything, you bring her to me. Understood?"

"Uh," Frank said, brow pinching with mild confusion. "Yes, sir."

I rolled my eyes to the side and puffed out a breath. Way to make me sound like a case.

Falman had already led the way back to the fort. Maes turned to go in himself, but I caught his hand, his gentle, bloodstained, gloved hand. He met my eyes, blinking.

"Hey," I said. "Sweet dreams, okay?"

Maes sank in the shoulders, ever so slightly. "Right," he said, as if to say, 'Not likely.'

I released his hand. There was a split moment that he kept holding on before letting go himself. And then we weren't touching anymore and he was closing the door behind him. Frank and I stood alone in the snow. Silent.

I rubbed my hands together, stepping in place a few rapid beats. "Burr, it's cold! Am I right?"

"It's the north in the dead of winter," said Frank. "Yes, it's cold."

"No need to be a smart-ass," I said. "Just trying to break the silence."

"You think he'll be okay?" said Frank, giving me a glance.

"Maes?" I said. "Yeah, he'll be fine. I mean, not _fine_, fine. But fine enough to get by, at least. Falman really saved us back there. Maes had had just about enough of the two of us telling him what to do. No offense, but we're all kind of in the same boat when it comes to the whole lacking experience thing. Having a vet chime in broke a wall there."

Frank nodded. "So, we're supposed to have a talk?"

"Yeah," I said. "And don't pretend you don't know anything. I know you figured some of it out, you little liar."

"I never lied," said Frank with a hint of offense in his tone.

"Yeah, just refused to respond," I said, "Same thing. Now, come on. We can't do this here. You heard Maes. We don't want this spreading and Falman's going to be sending out a new lookout any minute."

"Lead the way," said Frank.

…

Frank Charlie had known _of_ me since I was a kid. His dad had served under my dad in Ishval. The two kept in touch all the years since. So, when my parents up and got married and adopted me, yeah, Frank knew about it. The announcement photo had probably had a respective place on his childhood refrigerator for a while. But, until three years ago when I went military and Frank joined our team, Frank had never gone much past knowing_ of_ me and knowing me personally. So, when I gave him a rundown of my story, my real story, and he took it in with a straight face like he'd known as much all along, it was a little disturbing, to say the least.

We'd been walking through the snow for a while, me just kind of leading the way through some uneven ground and hills where we wouldn't be heard. My breath was close to panting. Frank trailed at my side, seemingly fine with the exertion. I stopped for a moment and he stopped beside me. We were silent.

"Well," I said, finally. "That's it. That's my story, Frankie."

He nodded, still silent, still not meeting my eyes fully.

I swallowed, tugging at my coat sleeves self-consciously as if to cover the scars more than they were already covered. "Well, what do you think?"

He didn't reply at first, his brow furrowing like he had to mull it over. Eventually, he opened his mouth and spoke softly. "I couldn't have guessed all that if you gave me years to do it."

"But you did guess some of it?" I said.

"I'd guessed you had some connection to the enemy that the General didn't want spreading," said Frank. "That much was apparent. But this…I did not anticipate."

I chuckled nervously. The guy had always been blunt, but jeez. "Yep. Crazy stuff, right?"

"No wonder he's holding so tight to this mission," said Frank. "You're practically in the middle of it. If the rest of the troop finds out about your involvement, he won't just be protecting you from our enemy. He may very well be defending you from our own men, Major. You know how many people are going to see this as your fault once they find out who you are?"

"It's not my fault," I said.

"I know it isn't," said Frank. "But where people choose to point blame rarely holds much rationality, especially under pressures of life and death. The General was right. This can't spread. Okay, who else knows?"

"In our company?" I said. "All the red-levels. Falman, Phil Thomas, the Elric's, Izumi Curtis, and Knox Senior. Now, you too. The end."

"And they're all trustworthy?" said Frank.

"Yeah, for sure," I said.

"Good, then this stays closed for now." Frank eyed me. "Major Mustang, about your alchemy…"

"Maes doesn't want me doing transmutations now that I've been recognized."

"There's something I've wanted to discuss with you for some time now," said Frank. "I put it off after you broke down at the office a week and a half ago."

"When you guys found out I was pregnant?" I said.

Frank's brow twitched slightly. "Yes. That. You seemed to be under a lot of stress and I decided it would be best to bring it up once General Elric was present."

"Ah," I said. "And now you've decided he doesn't need to hear it?"

"You seem to be keeping your head over this."

"I'm listening."

Frank was quiet for a moment. Hesitating? He met my eyes. "I do my best to stay in my bounds, Major, but since we seem to be starting up a new policy of sharing, I'd like to ask if the extent of your alchemy is within legal limits."

I sighed. "I think you know it isn't, Frankie. You've known as much when I showed you what I could do to that sunflower in the hall." Something clicked in my mind and I couldn't help but smile. "And when I blabbed to the whole team about how I could enter my own life force for kicks. You knew then. Okay. So, that's what you wanted to talk to be about that got put off. Well played, Frankfurter. Well played."

"I didn't doubt your integrity, Mustang," said Frank. "Still don't. What I wanted to ask was if there were others out there like you; other, less morally aware people who have your ability to manipulate souls. That's something worth concern." Frank stared out at the snowy emptiness. "And now, here we are, up against an enemy who might just fit that bill."

"No," I said. "I was the only successful experiment in the lab and they never even saw the results for themselves. Anya busted me out before that was an issue. I'm all there is, Frank."

"But they've had over two decades to muster up another successful subject," said Frank. "Evidence of mass kidnappings and five dead kids in a basement suggests this enemy of ours has been doing just that. The idea of you not being the only soul alchemist out here wouldn't be a stretch."

His words made me nauseous. "Frank, we're just trying to get home. Let's leave the investigation for when we can manage it, huh?"

Frank blinked at me like this should all just be stating the obvious. "Getting home and the investigation are clearly connected. I wouldn't exclude any information as irrelevant just yet."

"Sure," I said. "But…" I tugged at my sleeves.

Frank furrowed his brow at me for a moment. His expression altered, softening just a little. "On a personal note, Nina, you have my upmost respect for coming on this investigation. Your strength shines through the trials. It's to be applauded."

It's to be applauded? This was his personal note? Seriously? What kind of formal dork…? Wait.

"Did you just," I felt my eyes welling, "refer to me on a first name basis?"

"I suppose I did," said Frank apathetically.

"Aw, Frankie," I said. "You do care."

I swore he rolled his eyes. But he smiled a little in spite of himself. "Well," he said, "if this conversation is resolved, I suggest we get back to the fort and rest while we can. We'll have plenty of opportunity to stand in the snow later."

"Sure," I said. "Um, you go on without me."

Frank gave a look and I spoke again before he could protest.

"I have to pee," I said. "Urgently."

Frank's eyes widened with understanding. "Oh."

"Not much in the ways of indoor plumbing out in the tundra," I said. "Am I right?"

"Whatever," he said, shaking his head. "See you back at the fort. Don't dawdle."

I grinned. "Uh huh. Sure. See you, sir."

He got the hell outta there, once again proving Frank's innate ability to escape uncomfortable situations with speed and grace. It was so perfect. I almost wished I hadn't been lying about having to pee.

I laughed to myself as I turned back to the hills Frank and I had stopped at. I pressed on, weaving around the uneven snow. Thirty meters, Maes had instructed. That's where he'd told Falman to leave the prisoners.

* * *

**So. Cliffhanger. Heh.**

**I'm at an impasse, guys. I've got, like, multiple unfinished stories going on here and none of them get updated as often as I'd like and I barely reply to reviews and I do cliffies and then leave for a month without saying anything and somewhere, in the back of my mind, I have one of those little voices that tells me that this pattern of not meeting my own expectations somehow makes me an inadequate person. Like, what? I'll be honest here; I'm not always honest with you guys when I write these author's notes. I mean, this is the internet. Who the heck came on here to listen to strangers' problems, am I right? So, when I post, I tend to do it with smileys and exclamation points and stuff like, 'Enjoy the chapter and please forgive the unreasonably long time it took to get it up! I'll try to do better!' when, really, I'm thinking, 'If they had any idea what kind of crap is going on in my life right now outside of this freaking story, they'd probably want to slap me for apologizing. I want to slap me for apologizing!' Anyway, maybe that's TMI, but, come on. We're all real people behind the screens and the gushing over Cornstang and junk. So, if I'm gonna be a little more honest than usual today, let me just say that I am hereby no longer apologizing for taking too long or not replying to reviews or putting junk on hiatus or just whatever, because, seriously? I don't need to be feeling guilt about that crap. Like, jeez. And I know you all probably agree and don't need some explanation, but, for my sake, I just needed to say it. Anyway, this is me letting myself off the hook. From now on, if you catch me saying sorry for not being perfect, slap me, because I hereby no longer put up with all that internal condemnation. I'll update what I want when I want and I won't feel bad if I'm inconsistent or don't reply to feedback a couple (or ten) times in a row, because you guys know I appreciate you without me saying it every single post and you're well aware I tend to finish what I start, even if it takes a while.**

**With that said, here's some replies to chapter 20! Because, there were only, like, four reviews total (yes, practice totally cheats by replying on a day where it'll be easy).**

**REPLIES:**

**Evarria: Haha, chapter ride. That's adorable. I hope you feel better!**

**Harryswoman: Yeah, I wrote that line and I was like, 'Is that too graphic?' and then I was like, '...Not for Nina.'**

**mixmax300: Maes and Nina are both so extremely human when they fight with each other. And then they forgive each other for it. I think that's what I like most about that scene.**

**Krisaku: Yep, this sequel has definitely got a life of its own. I actually started off with so much in mind for it that I would get writer's block, like, 'Shoot, where do I start?'**


	22. Battlefield Days

**EDIT! Okay, in case anyone's on here like, "Didn't she just post this chapter last night?" I just had to change which one the Elric twins I mentioned somewhere in there. It does nothing to change the story or anything you'll probably notice. It was just important to me since the twin characters are actually young versions of my cousin's OC's, so I wanted to get the names right. Okay. Carry on ;)**

**A/N: Hey, peeps! This chapter's a little segmented compared to the usual. It's meant to kind of ground you for the chapters to come. With all the chaos from the past few chapters, I think we needed some grounding. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 22: Battlefield Days

"Just look at you," I said. "You're pretty much a couple of babies."

I knelt down in the snow with the prisoners. They'd been out here for a while. The cold was getting to them. Even with the sun out warming the air, the way the two had taken to curling up in the snow like shivering little animals was visibly flushing their skin with frostbite. They shook, breathed fast, snuggled together, too dumb from Maes's little zombifying brain-damage treatment to worry about dignity. Yep, Frank was right to worry about how my hubby had chosen to handle this situation. Executing prisoners may not have been exactly desirable, but destroying their memories to the point of turning them into drooling messes and then leaving them to freeze and die slowly out of sight like this was just wrong.

I touched the younger one's face. He grimaced, a sharp whimper escaping his throat like a wounded dog. I eased off, remembering the way he'd screamed when I'd healed his shoulder just hours before.

"Jeez," I said. "You two. You're terrible. You've done some gosh awful things. Hired guns. Taking orders from the same folks that pretty much ruined my childhood and beyond, and all for what? Money? You're terrible."

I sighed. And yet…

"And yet," I said. "Here you are, memories wiped, brains fried, every sin on your slate destroyed from your minds. If I had the means to take you home with me, maybe did you some rehab for a while, I bet I could raise you boys to be nice guys. Well, nicer than you were a couple of hours ago. Maybe. Everyone's got darkness. That's my problem. Because you were the enemy a couple hours ago and now all I see is a couple of babies. How does this work from here?"

They didn't answer. Of course they didn't. But in my heart, something was growing heavier. Some strange, angering feeling was weighing me down, growing on me, telling me this whole game of life thing was beyond black and white.

"I'm mad at Maes right now," I said. "Maes. Not you. You tried to kill us. You're working for the worst people I know. You weren't sorry, either. Not ever. But I'm angry at Maes for doing this to you, because now you're just helpless little kids in pain and he left you alone with that. All I want now is to help you. But if I do that, where does that leave me? Is that me forgiving you? Because that's how it feels. And if I forgive you, will that make me feel better? Because I think so. How do I feel about that? I should be happy to be happy, right? To let this whole thing go?" I shook my head. "No, that's wrong, because…"

Hot tears rolled down my chilled face. I sniffled deep. I gripped my hair.

"Because," I said, "if I can forget you're the bad guys just like that, then what about those crazies from the lab? What about them, huh? If Maes fried their brains too, they'd be babies too, wouldn't they? Just like you. Doesn't matter that they hurt me. Doesn't matter that they killed my friends. They'd be the ones suffering if Maes did this to them, and they wouldn't even remember why. And me? What if I wanted to help them? What if those terrible awful people being in pain made me sad and I wanted to end it? What then?" I sniffed. "Is that me forgiving them?"

…

"Nina," Phil said, giving me a jiggle. "Nina, wake up. We're stopping."

I groaned, snuggling up against his warm Phil-coat. My eyes peeled open to daylight. I closed them very prompt. "Four more minutes?"

Phil chuckled, his laughs vibrating me in his bulky arms. Nauseating.

"Rise and shine, Major," Mikey said. Too chipper. "Some of us have been _marching_ the past few hours. Time for lunch!"

Mikey got some cheers from those in earshot. Including Phil. I groaned again. Nauseating.

"Pipe down, guys," Braddock said from nearby. "Give the lady a minute to wake up. Ain't no rush."

"Beg to differ," Selim said. "I'm starving."

"Hell no," Sophie said. "Seriously, Bradley? You've been eating double rations every meal."

"I've got a fast metabolism," said Selim. "Mustang's got her magic alchemy. General Elric said we don't have to hold back out here so I don't. What's the problem?"

I blinked my eyes open and gave Phil a pat on the chest. "You guys keep talking about food and I will seriously puke. Let me down, Philly. Time to grow some lunch."

Phil set my feet on the ground and I yawned like a hippo. Yep. This was me. Three weeks pregnant. Eight days out in the snowy wild with my troop of spirited comrades. And I was on kitchen duty.

Emmett got down on the ground with me and handed me a single corn chip out of a salvaged bag. With a burst of blue light, I transmuted the little sucker into a full corn stalk with golden ears hanging heavy. The ears dropped and soon I'd pulsed them into a miniature cornfield ready for harvest. As long as I was in charge of replenishing our stocks, we didn't have to worry about running out, and that had been good, particularly for Maes. He'd sort of been forced to ease up on his no-Nina-transmutations rule. Me using my alchemy exclusively for food was a great compromise for him. It was safe. It was done outside of battles and all that nasty stuff that he didn't want me involved in. Plus, since a lot of what we'd salvaged from the train contained some kind of corn product in the mix, I ended up growing corn as one of our troop's main food groups, and Maes really didn't have a problem with that.

"Damn. Corn again?" Captain Stewart said, passing by. "Can't you grow something more interesting, Major?"

"Like beer?" said Captain Law, looking way too serious.

Lovett rolled her eyes as she followed after them. "Quit complaining, guys. The Major's pulling up crops from nothing out here."

"I'll eat anything as long as it's food," Selim piped up. "How long before it's ready?"

"Sophie's boiling the water," I said.

Selim gave me a cheerful thumbs-up before continuing on. Like Stewart and Law and Lovett, Selim Bradley happened to be one of the soldiers that spent breaks training and junk. In other words, he was one of the able. The ones that actually got to fight when the need arose.

"Seriously, though," Mikey said, plucking a couple ears off a stalk to shuck. Like me, he was one of the not able, assigned to kitchen duty. "How long's this going to take?"

"Same as always," I said as I peeled the rubbery green husk off a golden cob. "Sophie's boiling the water."

I looked over to where my sister in-law knelt over a couple huge transmuted pots. Lumpy, ugly things, but, in Sophie's defense, she was probably shivering pretty hard when she'd transmuted them into being a minute ago. Olga and Kelly were dumping fresh snow into the pots to melt. Emmett was headed over to help. It was a weak system, but it worked. Uncle Al or Grandma Izumi alone could've had the pots boiling in half the time it took Sophie and her helpers to do it, but we all had our jobs.

People like Sophie and Emmett and Kelly and Mikey who didn't do so great with the grizzly battle stuff got grunt work like kitchen duty and building campfires and junk. Same for people like me who just physically couldn't do much else. Folks like Knox and Knoxy Junior with medical training spent breaks checking every single one of us to make sure no one was dying and everyone was hydrated and all that. Folks with field experience like Falman and Uncle Ed spent breaks training the able soldiers. Able soldiers worked on skills that would come in handy during our occasional run-ins with the hired guns that just seemed to keep coming. Even Blake Focker trained. Sure, he'd lost an eye, but the one he had left served him pretty good once he'd healed up enough to use it. Sergeant Major Mildred Johnson had woken up from a pretty close call a couple days after the wreck, only to be on her feet teaching the youngsters how to handle and care for weapons the same afternoon. She was like some lovely old kindergarten teacher except armed. She made it look fun. Well, from where I was sitting it looked fun. Plenty looked fun from kitchen duty perspective.

Not that I was complaining. Kitchen duty was necessary. Important. Plus, with my achy back and pregnancy symptoms acting up by the day, I really couldn't do much else. Breaks weren't what got to me. I could deal with shucking corn with Mikey a few minutes out of every day. What was hard was those moments that popped up every couple days when Maes would stop us in our tracks and all the able soldiers would separate from the not able ones and Maes would transmute one of his signature metal domes of safety around the not able ones. For a few heart-stopping minutes, the able ones would be facing an enemy and the rest of us would be safe inside a metal fortress. Being one of the safe ones was what got me.

"Hey, mercy," Mikey said with a nervous laugh.

I looked up and saw he was staring down at the corn in my hands. I looked down at it and realized with a little bit of maybe embarrassment that I'd shucked the thing clean and, in my all zoned out state, I'd been just kind of clawing at the poor thing.

"Pretty sure it's already dead, Mustang," Mikey said. He handed me a fresh, not shucked ear.

I took it, my cheeks heating. "Thanks. Wasn't paying attention."

Mikey shrugged a shoulder. "I'm going to regret asking you this, but are you pissed off about something? You look…angry."

Off a ways, I could hear Braddock leading some of the other guys in one of his stupid goofy songs. He'd taken to doing that. While old lady Johnson had them cleaning out guns and setting up for target practice, Braddock would start singing nursery rhymes like a daddy singing to his kids and other soldiers would join in. It was the sort of thing that should've made me smile.

I yanked the white hairs from the top of a cob. "Eight days of easy victories doesn't amount to being in the clear, you know?"

Mikey sobered, shucking his corn just a little slower. "Well, sure. But sulking doesn't do anything."

I couldn't shrug Mikey off about that. He'd been on the verge of a total breakdown from the stress by our first day, so I knew where he was coming from.

Mikey stole a glance at Braddock and the others as they continued to sing their goofy songs. "You worried we're not taking things seriously anymore?"

I shook my head. "No way. That's not it. I mean, we've got to stay sane, right? No harm in blowing off steam. Morale's a great tool. I think Braddock's got the right idea."

Mikey continued to peel corn. "So…"

"So," I said, "I keep thinking about my parents."

Mikey met my eyes for a moment. He looked back at his corn. "And that pisses you off?"

"Kind of, yeah," I said. "I don't know. I just…I keep thinking about how they'd be reacting if they were here to see this, you get me?"

Mikey cracked a smile. "Yeah, my mom would probably blow a gasket if she caught me peeling corn while the _real_ soldiers train." He puffed a foggy sigh. "Whatever. George Fuery's folks would be freaking out for the opposite reason. No point in thinking hard about it."

I blinked. That was surprisingly honest coming from Mikey. "Hey, no shame in peeling corn. It's got to get done."

"Oh, yeah, I know," said Mikey. He nodded, eyes on the corn.

Poor guy. He'd mellowed a lot since we'd been out here. Humbled, I guessed. How could he not? From the beginning, it had been unclear who was going to be the able soldiers and who was going to end up benched. Mikey had been one of those on the fence. He was reported to be a pretty good shot from training exercises back home, but psychologically, the guy was just fragile on the field. After Maes's little demonstration the night of the wreck with Uncle Ed and George taking turns holding a gun steady, I'd caught Mikey trying himself, and his gun had trembled so bad in his hand that he'd barely been able to grip it. Not that that was really a deal breaker, but, in Mike's case, it was a pretty good indicator of how he handled things out here. I felt for the guy. I really did. I knew he wanted to be better at this. I knew the guilt ate at him every time George had to go into a fight while Mikey stayed back.

"Problem with me is," I said softly, "I think my parents would be happy about this setup. I think they'd want me to stay safe, even if it meant underachieving. I know this is what they'd want. That's what pisses me off."

"Having parents that worry about your safety pisses you off?" said Mikey.

"Yep," I said. "Sad, isn't it?" Mostly because they had a lot of right to worry.

"A little." He laughed.

"Hey, you're an only child too, right?" I said. "You get how it is."

"Mm." He looked to the side, shrugging. "Guess so. I mean, my folks are more of the tough-love type. They show concern by nagging at me."

"Oh," I said. "Yeah, I can see them doing that."

Mikey launched into his mother's classic whine, "Michael Havoc, get your ass up and just shoot something already!"

"Oh, dang!" I said. "You sounded so much like Aunt Becca I actually got chills."

Mikey smiled. "Crap. Not sure if that's a good thing."

"It's a talent." I grinned at him all cheesy. "You miss them, don't you?"

"Uh," Mikey paused, looking around like checking for listening ears. Coming up with nothing, he looked back at me and lowered his tone. "Uh, yeah. Guess so."

I giggled. "Loser. I miss mine too."

I knew he missed his folks. I wouldn't tell him, but over the past week, I'd heard him muttering for his momma in his sleep enough to know he was homesick like a kid.

"I think," I said, "mostly I'm mad because we're stuck out here and not in Drachma's capital doing our job."

Mikey looked at me with weight in his blue eyes. He held my gaze. "Yeah, it's been eating at me too." After a moment, he looked away and frowned. "I mean, not like we can help it, but those kids were counting on us, right? I guess the Fuhrer will just have to send a different team."

"You kidding?" I said. "After this little mess-up, there's no way Dad's approving anything new. Hell, once we get back, I'll be lucky to ever leave the country again. Those kids are…" I clenched my fists around a corn. "You realize it's over, right? My dad's not taking any more risks once I get out of this mess. I'll be home and home for good. Shit."

"Yeah, but…" Mikey frowned. "But that's understandable. I mean, you're…pregnant…and stuff. You probably shouldn't be out here anyway. Once this gets sorted out, though, Fuhrer Mustang'll send some aid to Drachma. It'll be later than expected, but it'll get there. _We're_ just out of the picture. That's all."

He was trying to reassure me, which meant I was showing too much emotion, I guessed. Really, what I wanted to tell him was that, no matter what actions my dad took, if I wasn't involved, it was pointless. But Mikey had no clue how deep my involvement really went. So I needed to keep cool.

"Yeah, guess you're right," I said.

"Still," he said. "All those kids. It sucks we're out here trying to survive when we're supposed to be the ones saving them."

"Listen to you," I said. "Mister Noble."

Mikey shook his head. "No. Just impatient."

"I get you, Mikey." I shucked the last of my corn and laid it on the pile. "I hate wasting time too."

…

It was times like this, times at night when most everyone would be sleeping and I'd have to get up to be sick outside while Maes was on watch, when he'd come down from his post on top of the fort he'd built us and he'd pat my back and hold my hair, it was during these wretched moments in the dark that I really wanted to tell him what I'd done to the two prisoners that day when no one was looking. And if I hadn't been so busy retching, maybe I would've.

"Hey," he said, voice soft in the dead night. The wind howled against us, making me shiver. He rubbed my back in circles. "Hey, easy. Breathe."

I killed them. I helped the prisoners die.

"Try to calm down, Nina," Maes said, gently brushing the hair from my eyes. "Damn. This baby isn't giving you an easy time of it, huh?"

They were frostbitten and hypothermic and dying anyway. I just helped. If you'd seen how awful they looked, you would've wanted to help too.

"Just breathe." The warmth of his arm cradled my shoulders from the cold. "I got you, baby."

That tattoo on my chest, the one I got to access my life force, the one I have access to our baby's life force through, the tattoo you healed to be used with your permission only, the one meant to bring life…

"See, that wasn't so bad," he said, patting my arm. "A little puke never hurt anybody, right? That's what Dad used to tell me. Wow. Dad seriously used to say stuff like that to calm me down. Is that weird? It kid of sounds like a weird thing to say to someone, now that I think of it."

I shook my head and leaned my temple into his shoulder. "Nope. That's the kind of thing you say when your kid's freaking out about being sick. Not weird at all."

The tattoo meant to bring life brought death, Maes. You healed it and the first transmutation I did with it leeched the life force out of those prisoners' broken bodies like rocking babies to eternal sleep.

"You feeling better?" Maes said. "Think you're done? I mean, not that I mind having you out here with me, but it's pretty cold this late at night. You should probably get back inside."

It wasn't wrong, what I did. It was perfectly in keeping with what my alchemy was meant to do; just a simple matter of which way I channeled the flow. Input or output. I guided their life forces into something better. Something peaceful. Something like warmth and cool and the smell of clover flowers and pine. It was right. I know it was and I don't feel guilt over it. I'm glad for what I did.

"Grandma's going to worry if she wakes up and you're not there," said Maes. "You know she worries about you."

"I know," I said. "I'll head in."

But I know that you wouldn't be glad about it. I know for a fact. Because, even if it weren't for the fact that I'd gone behind your back, even if it weren't for the fact that I'd used the tattoo to manipulate life forces moments after we agreed I wouldn't until further notice, in the end, I know you and I see life and death very differently.

Maes opened the fort door for me, squeezing my hand as he guided me through. "Get some rest," he whispered, "Mrs. Elric."

"Yes, sir," I whispered back.

To you, alive is alive and dead is dead. To me, life is life; death is a door. And that's our problem. To you, I'm a murderer.

I finally killed people on purpose, Maes, and I don't feel like a monster at all.

To me, you were a monster for sparing them.

…

George winced a little, but I'd learn to ignore that. He was taking a break from training again. It was usually a couple times a day that this would happen. His feet would start hurting and he'd need to prop them up, warm them, maybe a foot rub like I was doing for him now; by the end of the day, Maes or Uncle Al would need to top him off with alkehestry. A small price to pay for mobility, he'd say.

"Hey, Major?" George said. "You still wearing your wedding band under your mittens?"

"What?" I said. "Hell no. With these temps, wearing metal against bare skin's practically begging for frostbite. The ring's in my pocket. You know, the pocket with the zipper?"

"Yeah," said George. "That's what I thought."

I paused, my hands resting over the stumps between his remaining toes to keep them warm. He was looking at the snow clouds above us, that distant sheen to his big baby brown eyes. Something was on his mind.

"What is it?" I said.

"Nothing, I guess," he said. "Just…well, I noticed the General hasn't taken his off, is all."

My eyes darted back to George's foot. I started rubbing again. "The General uses his hands a lot, you know? Like, he doesn't have to worry so much about circulation in his digits."

"Sure," said George. "I just didn't realize it was worth the risk to him. Guess we've all got our ways of coping."

"Good catch," I said. I'd known about the ring, but it seemed a little sloppy on Maes's part that anyone else had caught on. Usually he kept his alchemy gloves on under his mittens at all times. I supposed George of all people would have opportunity to see, though, as much as he depended on Maes's healings now. Maybe a glove had slipped when he'd been adjusting them one time or another and George had seen then. That would do it. Maes and that ring. I'd told him to take it off the first day and he'd looked at me like I'd just run over his puppy in the driveway. It was like he was clinging to what little of himself he had left and his wedding band was his link. No messing with that.

"He's a good leader," said George.

"Yeah," I said. "He really is."

I moved onto massaging a particularly tender area on George's right foot where he'd lost an entire middle toe. My touch always went gentler here, but it didn't stop George from cringing. I backed off for a moment, let him catch his breath, and then went back to it. George grunted, but kept pretty quiet after that.

"Almost done," I said. "Sorry, Georgie. Have to keep your circulation regulated."

"It's fine," he said, voice tight. "Think I'm starting to get what you meant, though. About alkehestry having its weak points."

Couldn't help but frown at that. "Yeah?"

"Mm-hm," he said. "Sure, it works for a while, but doesn't take much to strain it again, you know?"

A cracked a dry smile. "Yeah, sweetie, I know."

"Oh, yeah," he said. "Your back, right?"

I nodded. "Like a bitch."

"Sucks," he said. "Wish your healings didn't hurt so bad. You said they don't leave weak points like alkehestry?"

"Yep," I said. "I don't do alkehestry."

"What's the difference?" said George. "Not that I'll understand it. But I'm kind of curious."

I shrugged. "Not that big a difference, I guess. We're pretty much using the same power source, just in different ways. Alkehestry uses the Dragon's Pulse to accelerate regeneration of cells. Wounds close faster, but they miss the whole _healing process,_ so they also heal weaker. Kind of a _bare_ healing. My alchemy's more potent. Instead of focusing on accelerating healing, it enhances the body's inborn healing abilities by connecting it to an outside source and gets it done that way. It hurts to hell having that much power surging through a damaged vessel, no joke, but the end result's even stronger than if you'd healed up naturally. I mean, in theory."

"It really hurts that bad?" said George.

"Yeah," I said. I quirked a brow at him. "What's got you so interested?"

George looked away, his mouth settling into a tight line. He sighed. "Sophie said you could make my toes grow back if I could take the pain."

I couldn't help but let out a laugh. I felt a little bad about it. I knew George was probably serious. "Sophie said, huh? Sophie's got a big mouth, you realize, right?"

George gave me a sheepish smile that said he was a little embarrassed for bringing it up. "Yeah, well, she sounded pretty convinced."

"I'm sure she did," I said. "She loves bragging about her mega-powerful sister in-law. Freaking people out is one of her favorite things ever."

George chuckled. "I noticed that too."

"Something you should know about Sophie, though," I said. I eased George's foot back into its boot. "She knows plenty about me, but she's never actually seen me heal anyone. If she had, you can bet she wouldn't be talking about it."

George blinked at me. "Oh."

"Sorry to disappoint."

George smiled, shook his head. "No, ma'am. It's just a few toes. No big deal."

"That's the spirit," I said. I smirked. "You're still going to look pretty epic in sandals this summer."

George laughed, because I totally got away with cute amputee humor. We stood, brushing the snow off like second nature now. George thanked me like he always did.

"It's a little weird, though," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I mean, no offense, but it seems backwards to be getting foot rubs from the pregnant lady. Isn't it usually the other way around?"

"Eh, it's only my first month. My feet aren't swelling yet." I gave him a salute. "You can pay me back later."

He saluted back. "Yes, ma'am." He dropped his salute, his brow pinching slightly. "Hey, I just realized something."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's winter now. So, come summer, you're going to be really pregnant. That's not going to be fun. It gets pretty hot in Central towards August. I remember my big sister being pretty miserable a few years ago with my niece."

I looked out at the snow and fought an instinctive shiver. "Yeah, think I'll manage."

Typical George. Always thinking ahead.

…

Thirteen days. Thirteen days wandering after Maes and people were starting to wonder how soon before we saw civilization. Not that they doubted our General. They just wanted an estimate. Heck, so did I. I just wasn't dumb enough to expect one.

Somewhere along the way, Scar had been benched and Uncle Ed had taken his place out on the battlefield. I wasn't completely sure what had happened there, but I had my guesses. Scar had never really been Maes's favorite person. They'd been on shaky terms at best from the beginning.

At some point, I knew, Maes had decided Scar should start taking some responsibility for training the men between battles since Scar had seen more than his share of war himself. Of course, I had seen this going over very poorly. Scar's family had been massacred by people in our blue uniforms. He wasn't going to jump at the opportunity to train people wearing said blue uniforms to kill. But Maes had been pretty much set in his ways about the decision. He said Scar needed to see beyond the past and fight for the future, some bull crap like that. Then, one afternoon, after a private conversation between the two, Scar started sitting through battles with me and the other useless ones. Just like that. He didn't talk about it. Maes didn't talk about it. The two basically ignored each other. Not exactly ideal, I supposed, what with Scar being a pretty damn good asset in a fight, but a shaky equilibrium was better than he and Maes having a total face-off to settle things, so I refrained from asking.

The good news in all this was that, with Scar out of the Maes's usual ranks, Maes was, of course, forced to adapt. That's when Uncle Ed finally got put back in the picture. As far as I knew from inside the protective dome, that was going great. Maes was keeping Uncle Ed on the defensive, yes, which I knew for a fact was not Uncle Ed's favorite, but it had to be done. Uncle Ed wasn't a killer and killing was what the offensive often had to do. Still, according to folks who'd actually gotten to fight in the battles along side him, Uncle Ed wasn't as big of a pansy as a lot of them had thought he was. I mean, yes, we'd all known he was the Fullmetal Alchemist and had saved the world and junk, but, for a lot of us in the younger generation, we'd never actually seen that badass fighting side of him. It was all just talk.

Well, in my case, I knew the guy pretty well, and I kind of always just took it on faith he could win a fight without alchemy and without taking lives and still be pretty dang terrifying in the process. But folks like Stewart and Law and even Frank had started looking at him differently since they'd seen him in battle.

At one point, a few minutes after the dome had come down, Selim came up to me with wide eyes and said with a shudder, "I knew that guy was holding back. I just knew. God, something about him just gives me the creeps."

I'd known he was talking about Uncle Ed without even asking. Selim had always been averted to him. I got the feeling that deep down, even if his mind didn't, Selim's soul remembered Uncle Ed had been a threat at one time, had been someone he'd underestimated and had cost him. Apparently, witnessing Uncle Ed in a fight bothered Selim to a new level.

Maes was more bothered than anyone, though. It was subtle, but easy enough for_ me_ to pick up on, at least. It made sense. All his life, Maes had heard the stories about his dad in the glory days, and he'd put him on a pretty high freaking pedestal. But, really, getting right down to it, Maes had never actually _seen_ any of it. He'd been born after those glory days. He'd been raised by kind of a shut-in, really. Uncle Ed had been pretty low key as a dad. Having a terminally ill child had changed him, naturally. Changed his priorities. And, likewise, Maes had really seen his dad as a hero for different reasons than what had happened with the military. Maes had been more than happy for that past to die.

Now he was seeing it in action.

"So," I said to Uncle Ed one evening as we all turned in. "You're really getting back into the swing of things, so I hear."

"Yeah, well," he smiled, "I'm still a little rusty, but what can you expect? It's been a while since I've had to give it my all."

"You'll get there," I said.

"It's thanks to you, you know." His voice lowered, like this was something just for my ears. Something special. "What you said about my block being psychological? It's stupid, but if you hadn't pointed it out, I doubt I would've gotten past it."

"Don't go bragging on me," I said. "I mean, you're very welcome, but Maes won't be happy if he thinks I did this."

Uncle Ed's eyes sank. He nodded. A sad smile tainted his mouth and, for the first time ever, I realized how deeply he understood that Maes didn't want this. "Don't I know it, kiddo."

…

"I'm just saying," Douglas Mac, the male train attendant who usually stuck with Kelly and Emmett, prattled on. It was a nervous prattle, the kind we did to distract us from the noise outside the metal dome. "Eventually, we're going to run outta toilet paper."

Emmett covered his mouth through a shiny-eyed giggle as Kelly shoved a shaky elbow into Mac's arm.

"It's true!" he said with a wry grin. "Don't you ever think of these things? It's been fourteen days. We're going to run out."

"So gross," Kelly said with a shudder.

Gunfire sounded outside the metal walls. I heard Maes's muffled voice shouting something and more gunfire followed. Emmett curled up tighter between me and Kelly and I caught Sophie plugging her ears. Mikey closed his eyes and spoke above the noise with a voice shaky from fear.

"W-What makes you so sure," he said, "we haven't run out already, huh? I mean, we got some talented alchemists out here. Maybe we've been _recycling_ for a while now and haven't known it."

Sophie unplugged her ears and she and Olga and Kelly and all three of the Drachman diplomats gave Mikey a simultaneous 'yuck' face. Emmett and Mac laughed. Dr. Knox scowled, folding his withered arms like he was some kind of unwilling babysitter forced to sit with us through timeout.

"You damn pampered brats," he grumbled through clenched teeth. "Toilet paper my ass. Back in Ishval, we just got comfortable with our left hand."

"Oh, God," Sophie squeaked. "Bad image. Bad image!"

"This is terrible image!" Inga, one of the Drachman ladies said. I loved it when this particular one talked. She had the thickest accent out of the bunch and it was beautiful.

Knoxy Junior frowned. "Cool it, would you, Dad? You're going to make Mustang sick again."

"You're the one looking green, Doc," I chuckled.

Knox snickered at his son. Knoxy rolled his eyes at me as if to say, 'Don't encourage him.' I sighed and leaned my ear on Emmett's head lazily. I listened for Maes's voice outside as he barked an order every so often, and I found relief every time I heard it. He seemed to give less orders with every battle. His soldiers were getting the hang of things. He'd distributed authority, too, just like we'd told him to do, so some of the orders tended to come from different voices now, like Falman's or even Frank's, them being the highest ranks besides Maes. So, sometimes whole minutes would go by and I wouldn't hear Maes at all. I'd find my shoulders tensing, my heart whirring with fear as the moments of silence and gunfire dragged on. And then I'd catch Maes's voice above the noise and I'd uncoil a little, resetting for the next round of worry to proceed.

I felt Emmett's little hand tightening around mine. I looked down to see his big red eyes peering up at me.

"It'll be okay, Queen Nina," he said. "It always is."

I smiled back at him, ready to agree, but the sound of Scar's bitter scoff stopped me. It was odd to hear from him. Scar usually kept silent during these things, to the point where I'd kind of forget he was with us.

"Is that what you think, boy?" said Scar. "You think previous victories ensure future ones? You have a lot to learn."

"Leave the kid alone," Mikey said. He tended to get surly when he was scared. "Worrying doesn't do a thing."

Scar was silent. I heard Sophie laugh in a sad, tired way.

"It's a shame," she said softly. "If worrying was a weapon, we'd be the best soldiers in this outfit."

…

Somewhere, in the wreckage of the train, the salvage team had managed to dig up that old pregnancy handbook Aunt Winry had given to me on my way out of Central. It wasn't until after my little announcement that anyone realized the book was mine, and it wasn't until even later that anyone thought to return it to me along with the slightly singed giftwrapped box that I knew contained Maes's old baby socks. For a while, I didn't open either item. I didn't feel like reading about pregnancy and peeking at Maes's cute little socks without him seemed wrong. But, eventually, Uncle Ed saw me holding the book on my lap one evening after we'd made camp and he recognized it. It was all over from there.

"Wait, seriously?" he said, eyes bright like little suns. "Winry gave that to you? Man, that book's older than Maes is!"

"Uh, yep," I said, giving the worn cover a pat. "I had it in my suitcase, so it survived the crash."

Uncle Al plunked down at my other side with an excited smile mimicking his brother's. "Not surprising. I mean, it survived all four of brother's kids. A train wreck's nothing compared to that."

"Ah, yes, and Avery's a biter," Grandma Izumi said with a sigh, joining us. "That book had to have been durable to withstand that child in the house."

"My kids are terrific," Uncle Ed said, seeming to feel a need to come to their defense. "Chewing on stuff's perfectly normal, I'll have you know. Trust me. We asked the doctor after Avery went through the leg on Granny's old coffee table."

"You said the neighbor's dog did that!" said Uncle Al.

"Um," Uncle Ed blinked. "I don't remember."

Grandma Izumi leaned closer to me, resting a soft hand on my shoulder. She'd gotten gentler with me since she'd found out I was pregnant.

"Well," she said. "Aren't you going to look inside?"

"Not much point," I said. "I'm tracking the baby's life force. I don't need a book to tell me things are fine."

"But don't you want to look at the pictures?" said Uncle Al with a grin.

"Pictures?" I said. I clutched the thick book tighter in my hands. "This thing's illustrated?"

"Hell yeah it is!" said Uncle Ed. His excitement suddenly dropped and he looked to the side a little deflated. "Just don't look at the pictures at the back. Those ones are scary."

"Grow up, Ed," Grandma said flatly.

Uncle Al was already helping me turn to the pictures he'd been excited about, the ones toward the beginning on glossier pages purposed for illustrations. It looked like a biology textbook mapping out cell reproduction or maybe the growth process of a tadpole, but it wasn't.

"Holy crap," I said. I touched one of the pictures, the one labeled 'week three' illustrated by a ball of little bubbly cells, and I broke into a shaky smile. "That's what my baby looks like right now?"

"Pretty neat, huh?" said Uncle Al. "Brother really lucked out getting this copy from their practitioner. They've got it mapped out week by week."

I caught Grandma looking smug at Uncle Ed. "Lucking out with the nurse, Ed? I seem to remember something about that."

Uncle Ed's posture stiffened. "Shut. Up."

"Oh, yeah!" Uncle Al nudged him all playful. "I remember that! Doc Jessie had a little thing for you back then, didn't she? Was that how you got this book?"

"Dammit, Al!" Uncle Ed's face was pink like he was holding his breath. "It was a misunderstanding, okay? Just shut up!"

"Really, Ed," said Grandma. "Clueless as always. Nothing ever changes."

My eyes scanned over the pages. "Hey, hey, guys. When its heart beats for the first time, think I'll be able to feel it?"

Their carrying on stopped. After a short moment of silence, Grandma said, "No," like she was stating the obvious.

"What if I concentrate?" I said. "Like, really hard."

"You'll feel it kicking in a few months," said Uncle Al all reassuring.

I peered up at him, meeting his eyes over the rim of my fat book. "So, what? All this incredible stuff is going on inside me and I don't even get to feel it? That's so not fair. You'd think it would, I don't know, tickle or something."

"It's called morning sickness," said Grandma.

"Point taken," I said.

Uncle Ed shifted beside me. At first I wondered what he was doing, but then I saw him picking up the gift box I'd tucked next to me. So cute and little and wrapped pretty with gold. It was perfectly perfect besides the scorch marks from the wreck and the wear and tear of traveling since, and even that could just be counted as adding to its character.

"What's in here?" Uncle Ed said with a glance my way. "Late Christmas present?"

I let out a sulky breath and leaned back. "Nope. Just something I was going to do that didn't work out. Maes's old baby booties are in there. I was going to give it to Maes once we got to Briggs as my special way of telling him I was pregnant. But then I ended up telling him on the train and then we never even made it to Briggs, so I guess…"

"No way," Uncle Ed said, his eyes round like saucers. "That's what's in here? Can I look?"

"Um, sure," I said. "I guess. I mean, they are kind of yours. Aunt Winry told me she wanted them back when I'm done, though, so don't lose them or anything."

Uncle Ed already had the box open, nodding to everything I said but clearly not fully listening. "Damn, Al. Look at them. Remember when he was that tiny?"

Uncle Al scooted closer to Uncle Ed to get a better look in the box with a matching mystified little smile on his face. "Leave it to you to make the tiniest baby ever, brother."

Uncle Ed paused long enough to give a, 'Not funny, Al,' look before handing the box over to me. "Check it out, Nina. Your dad and I used to try fitting these socks on our pinkies for fun."

I let Uncle Ed plant the little box in my palm, kind of like Maes handing me my engagement ring only different. I looked down at the two white tightly crocheted little socks with tiny blue ribbons decorating the tops. My heart skipped and I realized with a pang that I had probably never seen anything cuter in my life. Like, ever.

"Dear goodness," I said. "I want to touch them."

Grandma Izumi chuckled over my shoulder, peering with me. "I still don't know how Winry managed to keep them looking white all this time."

"Eh," Uncle Ed said, "Maes outgrew those socks before his diapers really got graphic."

"I was talking about _dust_, Ed," said Grandma.

I giggled. "He probably had the most adorable poops, am I right?"

"Yes," said Uncle Al, dead serious.

Uncle Ed tapped my knee, his brow furrowed like he was onto something. "You know, not that you'd remember, but I think you actually said something like that when he was a baby, Nina." A distant smile spread across Uncle Ed's face. "Yeah, you did. I remember, because you were there for that first week with your parents. Al was upstairs with Winry and your useless father was trying to help me change Maes without the women. You came in and announced that Uncle Ed's baby had the cutest poops ever. You looked so determined about it, too. Mustang and I nearly ate carpet laughing."

I pouted my lip. "I so wish I remembered that."

"You guys were crazy," said Uncle Al. "Hey, Teacher, remember Maes's nursery?"

"Ugliest room I've ever laid eyes on," said Grandma with a decisive nod.

"Yeah, yeah," Uncle Ed huffed. "Go on and run your mouths. Winry picked those colors out, not me. She'll try to deny it, though."

"Skylar and Avery have it nice at your new place," said Uncle Al. "You and Winry learned. Eventually."

"No," said Grandma. "Sig and I were the ones that learned. We took care of decorating for the twins, remember?"

"Right," said Uncle Al. "Brother always procrastinates on that stuff, anyway, doesn't he?"

"At least I'm not creepy about it like you and Mei," Uncle Ed said. "You guys had a room set aside for your kids back when you two were still engaged!"

"That's not creepy," said Uncle Al. "It's endearing."

Grandma shrugged a shoulder, "I don't know, boys. Could be both."

I closed the old book on my lap and set the gift box with Maes's little baby socks on top of it. "Wow, guys. You really get into this stuff, huh?"

The three of them all looked at me a little thrown off. Grandma's eyes were warm, the way she usually pretty much always looked at Maes when he was being sweet.

"Of course we do," she said. "We're a family."

The word made me freeze a little. It was unexpected, how foreign it felt. But it did.

"Not exactly your average picture, though," said Uncle Al with a laugh.

"No," said Uncle Ed. "But we're getting there. Hey, I'm going to be a grandpa."

"That's still just bizarre," Uncle Al said. "Seriously, brother. Way to make everyone you know feel old. My kids are still practically babies."

"Yeah," said Uncle Ed. "So are a couple of mine. Happens when you spread them out like that."

"You boys," said Grandma, shaking her head. "What am I going to do with you?"

Sophie popped over to us and swung her arms around Grandma's neck from behind. "So, what did Dad do this time?"

Grandma patted Sophie's hand. "Hi, sweetie."

"Why do people always assume I'm the one who did something?" said Uncle Ed. "I mean, Al gets on Teacher's nerves too, you know."

"Hey," I said. "Maybe when we get back home, you guys could all come live in Central with me forever. Or we could all just move to Risembool or Xing or Dublith or something. So long as we're all in the same place. I think I could get used to that."

Sophie snorted. "You kidding?" She pressed her rosy cheek against Grandma Izumi's shoulder all playful and cute. "We'd kill each other."

…

Mikey and I were shucking corn together with Emmett the next day when Maes came up to me with those intense eyes he got when something was wrong. Usually during breaks like this, he'd be catching a nap, maybe getting tips from Grandma on bettering his fighting or consulting Falman about whatever our next move was. He usually didn't come over and visit me at the cooking station just to say hi. I instinctively rose to my feet.

"Sir?" I said.

"We need to talk," he said. "Now."

Maes led me away from the others, over to a semi-secluded area by some sparse trees where Uncle Ed, Falman, and Frank were standing together looking grave. All red-levels, I noted. Maes breached his usual General Effect by settling with a hand on my back as soon as we'd joined the three men. It was like he was plugging me into his support.

"Falman," Maes said. "The map."

"Yes, sir," said Falman. He tucked out a roll of crumpled paper from his coat and handed it to Maes.

Maes opened it in front of us, pulling it out straight. Without a word, he got on his knees and smoothed out the 'map' in the snow so it was lying in the middle of our little circle. The other guys knelt down with him, so I did the same. The map looked pretty stupid to me. It couldn't even be called a map to my eyes. It was a blank piece of paper with some dots here and there and not much else. I watched Maes's eyes darting back and forth as he analyzed those dots, though, and I knew to him they meant more.

"This isn't good," he said finally, with a hand to his chin. "I don't like this at all."

"What, are we lost?" I said. Come on. Who wasn't thinking it?

But Maes shook his head like it wasn't even a possibility. "No. We're being handled."

"Huh?" I said.

"You had to have noticed by now," Maes said. "How easy the fights have been since the first night. That's not normal. We've been facing enemies of less than five men at a time some days. Lots of retreats, too, like the people after us didn't realize what they'd be up against until we're in sight. The ones behind these attacks aren't trying to eliminate us like they tried at the beginning. They're throwing hired guns at us from different directions to keep us on a specific path. They know our pattern. They know we do what we can to avoid conflict and adjust our path accordingly. We're being handled."

I looked at the others, at Uncle Ed and Falman and Frank. They were all wearing straight faces, serious, but not shocked. They'd already known about this. I was the one being informed now.

"What do I have to do with it, sir?" I said, kind of already guessing.

Uncle Ed spoke up. "If the guys behind this are who we've been assuming, then you're probably the reason they're trying to manipulate us, Nina. Those guys that attacked us that first night asked for Anya Bagrov, right? They wanted her alive. So, instead of wiping us out…"

"You think we're being led into some kind of trap?" I said.

"We're already in one," said Maes. His eyes stayed pinned to the map. "The moment we started altering our steps based on their actions, we lost the upper hand in getting out of this. There's no telling who these people really are or what they really want, but we won't be finding out. I would be very satisfied if we never met the ones pulling the strings face to face. We need to break from their spectrum of control. To achieve that, we're going to have to face their wall of mercenaries head-on."

"That won't be easy," said Frank. "The men have grown accustomed to fighting, but always with the odds in our favor. We could lose people."

"That's always a risk, with good odds or bad," said Maes. "Don't focus on odds. We need to focus on what's in front of us. Major Mustang, we'll be depending on you for some of this."

I swallowed hard. Really? Two weeks of nothing but kitchen duty and now he was just saying it? Without really thinking, I found myself saying, "What's the catch?"

Maes gave me a look that could only really be described as muted affection. "Don't get too excited. I'm not putting you in the fight. Locating the enemy, however, is something I could use some help with."

* * *

**Whoo! I loved writing that chapter. I really did. I did it in two days, guys. That's fast for me right now ;)**

Edit: So, anyone wondering about that _edit_, yeah, Avery's supposed to be the one who had a biting problem as a child, not Skylar. That was the detail I changed :D

**Okay, so, something I wanted to say about Ed. I kind of breezed over his 'breakthrough' with his alchemy. By breezing over, I mean I had Nina summarize it rather than actually including it in a scene. Kind of anticlimactic. Well, thing is, I got plenty of reasons for doing it like this, but the main one is that when I wrote Flame Legacy (the first), I planned on it standing on its own. That's just how it was at the time. Ed getting his alchemy back at all was just a sweet little tidbit I added in at the epilogue because I'm a huge sucker for happy endings and it seemed pretty plausible with the developments with Nina's own alchemy through the story. Also, with that epilogue, I figured it'd be an interesting concept to leave the reader with the idea that Ed wasn't just bouncing back to the glory days of being an awesome alchemist. He was having to relearn it, work for it. Just one of those, 'The journey's only beginning,' endings, you know? Okay, well, FL2 comes along and I'm like, crap, Ed still sucks and I don't know how to make him awesome again in written word. There's no doing it justice, you know? Anyhow, if I could do it again with FL2 in mind, I might've left out in the first story that Ed had even achieved alchemy again, that maybe he was just helping with research, and, at some point in FL2, then he does his first transmutation in over twenty years and he's instantly awesome at it (shameless plot shortcut, yes). But, in the end, what was written was written and I didn't change it and so Ed's 'transformation' from useless to not useless in a fight (at least, alchemy-wise) is vague in this story. I assure you, it's mostly for lack of a more concrete way of going about it. Essentially, this story (and the last one) focus primarily on Nina (I mean, it is her POV), so Ed's personal journey kind of takes a backseat to that. Sorry if it disappointed anyone looking for some cool Ed breakthrough moment, but I just wasn't feeling it, so it didn't make the cut. From this point on, just assume he's getting back in his old skin in his usual, easily adapting way now that he's back on duty. Okay!**

**Yeah, no replies tonight. I'm tired. See you next chapter, sweeties!**


End file.
